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Xia Zhinian, imitating the words on the love letter. Or, imitating... the words I used to say? But since it is my own character, there is no need to imitate it. And it's still such a blunt copy. Yan Ci frowned slightly, his eyes sank, and he looked down. In the transcribed sheets, some strokes were written relatively quickly, and the direction of the strokes was obviously different from that on the love letter. What's going on. Will there be a serious change in the direction of strokes in a short period of time in a person's handwriting? Yan Ci pursed his lips, his eyes were dark, thinking of the first time that Rice Cake Duanzi went to a suburban villa, he would rather sleep with him than do his homework in front of him. The ungraspable feeling of emptiness in my heart became str
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