Futuristic Chef Transmigrated As Mother

Jiang Shanhe's fist was clenched from the moment he was just hit, and it has not been released for a long time now.

But it's not that I'm angry, but it really hurts a bit. The pain on my face is a small matter, the most important thing is somewhere.

Xiaoguo came to him, holding his gloomy handsome face distressedly, looked left and right, very distressed.

"Does it hurt?"

Xiaoguo asked, rubbing his red nose.

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