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How Young Master Quan Pursues His Wife

This is a hot-blooded story. This is a story of growth. # Mo Shangjun, after an extraordinary encounter with a cunning fox, was as beautiful as a vase. Rumor had it, she was capricious, crafty, a living rogue! Ya Tianxing, the mysterious captain of the Ace Special Warfare, was as handsome as a devil. Rumor had it, he was callous, brutal, a living tyrant! In reality— Both were high-level "appearance supremacists"! The day they met, she was hanging onto Ace's shoulder with a hooligan’s flair, yet her words were earnestly persuasive, "If you want me, it's not impossible, but first, you've got to pay with your charm!" "Deal!" The gavel came down. Thus, the emotional journey of the old fox and the young rogue began amidst a different type of fervor. # This is the story of two fiends, and when fiends clash head-on, if they want to avoid a life-or-death struggle, then the only option is to enjoy a thorough feast! This is also a story of youthful ardor, with blood and tears. When the youth facing no regrets meets an increasingly powerful nation, what reason do we have not to be passionately stirred? # We love our country, so we have no regrets drenching our past weaknesses with sweat; We love our country, so we selflessly guard the lives of strangers with our blood. ——Mo Shangjun # [The Chapter of Passion] "Relying on oneself is too exhausting. Having a belief makes life a bit easier." ——What is your belief? ——You.

Fruit Store's Bottle · Urban
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624 Chs

119, Attendant of the pursuer_1

Noon.

Outside the window, the sunlight was just right, a gentle breeze breezed, branches swayed, and the scenery was charmingly beautiful.

Mo Shangjun slowly opened her eyes.

She didn't know how, but she had fallen asleep, and it seemed she had slept for about four or five hours.

Her head felt dizzy and heavy; she hadn't slept well.

Mo Shangjun furrowed her brows slightly and stared at the trees and light outside the window for a few seconds, noticing something unusual.

The window, which was originally open, was closed without her knowing when.

There was wind outside, but it couldn't blow in.

Without thinking, she knew who had closed it.

With an injury on her left shoulder, she was lying on her right side, and now that the IV had finished dripping, both of her hands were tucked into the quilt, warm but uncomfortable.

After thinking for a moment, she said softly, "Open the window."