On the bed, Pei Yuanjun leaned back, his face still pale as snow, his rosy appearance, his stunning features, his ink brocade-like black hair casually draped, his white wide robe, the whole person as if he only had black and white, as light as an ink and landscape painting, but letting people feel mysterious and reserved.

He just casually reclined on the bed, his whole body languid, slightly open collar, you could see the wound scarf wrapped around the wound inside.

Seeing Qu Mo ...