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... ars. He leaned on the table to regain his composure, fuming with anger.
“What gives you the right to hit me?”
“It’s because you’re an ungrateful wretch,” Jiang Peihuan replied, taking the tea that Yue Er handed her and continuing.
“Who was the one who came begging at our door, pleading with my grandfather to marry me, and no one else?”
“Has the prince forgotten already?”
Zhao Fuqing’s face turned red as he pointed at Jiang Peihuan.
“The past?” Jiang Peih ...
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