Jiang Ran's hand slightly smoothed, falling on the arm, his hand was a little rough, grinding Ruan Niannian uncomfortably.,It's hard to say, maybe I'm seeing myself as that man.,A book came to mind, the cover featuring a man and a woman in the most stereotypical pose of internet novels—ambiguous and full of tension. In large red letters, it read: "Beloved of the Seventies: Doting on by Mr. Song."。