C83 Wealthy Evening Feast

When the phone rang, Gu Shaoqiang was still stroking Zhao Qianlin's hair that was as wet as a waterfall. Her fingers lightly drew an irregular circle on his chest.

Originally, Gu Shaoqiang did not plan to pick up this untimely call. Taking a glance at the phone, Zhao Qianning casually took it from the bedside, her face immediately became gloomy and unsightly