When hearing Mo Kun's serious confession, Long Xi answered in a sincere way, "Brother Kun, you're my only love in this life! You know, I like a poem that speaks about the oak tree, written by the famous contemporary poet Shu Ting. I can read it for you. The title is 'Ode to the Oak': If I love you, I will not show myself off on your high branches, like the scansorial Chinese trumpet creeper..." Mo Kun curved the charming corner of his mouth happily, saying in a voice as mellow as wine, "Xixi, my little pepper, you're so different from all the other women! Xixi, I like here so much. We can rent a house to live here for a month during our honeymoon. Do you like the idea?" Long Xi made a face and said, "Marriage is the tomb of love. I don't want to marry you so early! Besides, when did I agree to marry you?" Mo Kun said with a smile, "If I am with you, who else would dare marry you? I think marriage is the evaluation of love. Who told you it wa
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