C297 Play

Seeing that Song Chongjing did not speak for a long time, Xi Mengyao could not help but feel that it was a little strange. She extended his hand and pulled's sleeves: "I'm talking to you, what are you thinking about?"

Song Chongjing laughed, his index finger bent, and lightly scratched the tip of her nose: "I'm thinking, what kind of luck is this, I don't know if it's good or bad