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Inside the rest room:
Jian Ran stood frozen in place, her hands tightly clenched—was Han Siming just outside the door?
Her grip on the bowl and chopsticks wavered, and they fell to the ground.
In her panic, Jian Ran bent over to pick up the shattered porcelain, and inadvertently, her fair fingers were cut.
“Ah…”
Jian Ran withdrew her hand in pain.
Seeing her so careless, Gu Mochen frowned slightly and pursed his lips towards Secretary Z ...
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