C197

Under the dim light, Qiao Zi'an looked at the side of Yan Zirong's face. She had a high nose bridge, big eyes, cherry-like lips, occasionally biting tightly and occasionally relaxing. Because of her breathing, her chest rose and fell, her right hand fell powerlessly beside the seat, while her left hand was held tightly by Qiao Zi'an.

"Rong, don't hold grudges against your father