C947 Fate Does Not Make Sense

Nangong Moh, who was sitting there quietly drinking his coffee, frowned slightly. Was he hallucinating? Why did he feel that the voice was very similar to Hsu Mianmian, that silly girl.

He turned his head and looked down. Other than those golden-haired and blue-eyed French people, he did not see any eastern face.

Shaking his head, Nangong Moh couldn't help but smile self-deprecatingly