C848

Will you die?

Qing Rong leaned on the side of the carriage, his handsome face that could make one's hair stand up was pale white.

He had one hand on his stomach, the other on her car, as if to keep his body from falling.

Thinking of this, he nervously walked over, but before he could even open his mouth to speak, the smell of alcohol permeated the air.

She frowned, wanting to say