Shen Zhao bent down and moved closer, gently stroking the incomplete golden nanmu Buddha statue next to him with his fingers.
Looking down at the top of his black hair, he said thoughtfully
"Will your heart, which is so flat and smooth with mountains and rivers, be shaken?"
He raised his head and looked at her seriously with clear eyes:
"How do you know it won't work if you haven't tried it?"
...
The contest between him and her was always one step at a time, but she always lost everything.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The author has something to say:
I am the biological mother of the heroine, not a BE, not a noob, and a dual male protagonist.
The ink in my belly is nothing more than a shit basin with a gold rim
My original intention was just to write a little yellow in Jinjiang
I hope all readers will squirt gently
Intention: Love will transfer, but it will not disappear. I like you and save three points.