C113 Relapse of Old Toxicity of Baixiaoqiao

"Miss Qiao …"

He could not help but call out softly, his mind unable to hold a second person.

Pieces of snow, snow from Stone Ridge.

Standing in the meditation room, little white Joe looked out of the window at the sky. His eyes were sluggish, his eyebrows were lightly knitted, and his hair was disheveled. It showed how unhappy she was inside. Under such a state of mind