be Zheng Jinbao's fault. He, a man nearly sixty years old, lowered his posture to speak to Fu Mochen, who was in his thirties. If Fu Mochen still cared about this and held a grudge, it would only mak...Raise the bedding, Lin Jin dyed once again lay down, back against the door, the quilt covered to the nose, the whole person shrank in the quilt, tightly closed his eyes. 。

It's not a big deal, just sleep it off. 。Alas, she just couldn't fall asleep. Lying in bed, she became increasingly uncomfortable. 。unbearably wanting to cry 。

"Click!" 。A crisp sound of a door openingormal" Lin Jinran obviously hadn't recognized the person in front of him as the real Fu Mochen. He stubbornly believed he was Ji Yun Ting in disguise.Fu Mo Han's face darkened, he slightly used more f...