She's completely familiar with the lounge door, stuffed and lying flat.
Pinched the flab on her belly.
Ying Jing stared at the ceiling in deep thought.
Has she been too indulgent lately, completely lacking the self-awareness a female celebrity should have?
She can't keep going downhill like this. Next time, she'll just have a few bites for a midnight snack, enough to whet her appetite.
And she added one last thing to herself.
Make it a few big bites.
While she was asleep, she didn't know that Wen Fucheng had left the company once.
Zhang Yang was driving, and the man in the back seat had a face as dark as water.
At the police station, Jiang Yanlu was still sleeping soundly.
But the driver, a grown man, was wiping tears and crying bitterly. He even added hiccups in his complaint using his dialect.
