Just One Kiss
"That's impossible."
Shen Xuyan stood up in shock, the iron chair scraping back with a sharp, grating sound.
"What's impossible?" Jiang Ruoqi handed the flowers to Meng Shang, pulling out a chair next to him and sitting down. "That I would show up in Xinhai right now? Or that I couldn't have known my husband fifteen years ago?"
Shen Xuyan steadied himself against the table, hooked the chair back with his long leg, and sat down again.
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