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... t she was in the wrong. She lowered her head, reached out her hand and carefully tugged at his cufflinks, trying to leave this troubled place. She looked at him pitifully and said, “Dad.”
There were still scratches on ye sang’s Fair and tender face. The bun that she had tied before she left the house had fallen off. A small patch of red had appeared on her forehead. She looked like a little lunatic.
She did not say anything to complain, but her miserable appearance clearly showed ...
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