Biting her lip, Hu Tu raised a hand and swiped at the hair beside her ear. Meanwhile, her other hand clutched her chest as she lightly heaved a sigh of relief. “This is just too realistic.” After saying that, she raised her head and glanced at Ning Jian with a mild sense of guilt, but the light in this place was a tad dim, so she couldn’t see his expression clearly. “Uncle Ning Jian, can you hold my hand?” she asked softly.
Ning Jian said nothing, yet he stretched out a hand and grasped hers.
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