C327 Omen of production

Meng Yingtao stared fearlessly into Tang Chen's eyes, the corners of her lips tightly pursed, half of her swollen face was covered with a distinct fingerprint. That kind of unprecedented hatred spread across her entire heart, her hands tightly clenched into a fist, her eyelids moved, "Of course."

Half a month later, Gu Bei Chen's left shoulder blade had been dissected