: Telling Bedtime Stories

Qin Wuyou didn’t argue with a drunk person, but continued to massage her with his movements, hoping that this would make her feel a little better.

After a long time, Angel Leng stretched out his hand and pulled Qin Wuyou’s hand off his head, and put it on his face. Qin Wuyou’s delicate cheeks were gently rubbed against Qin Wuyou’s warm palm, and she said in a soft and coquettish tone: “Wuyou, I can’t sleep, tell me a story.”

Three hundred and sixtieth IX turmoil

In the evening, the captain of the ship was sitting leisurely in the control room, routinely checking the status of the ship. Looking at an electronic screen in the control room, checking the data on the ship, and finding nothing abnormal, just about to go back to rest, when an operator in the control room suddenly yelled: “The captain has something to do, come over and have a look!”

Hearing the exclamation of his subordinates, the captain rushed over quickly, looking at the monitoring screen in front of him showing the

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