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... i, covering her little ears, stood obediently in the corner, occasionally sneaking a look back at Jun Moyan, who was tidying up his desk.
Seeing him throwing those draft drawings into the trash bin, Wen Xiao’ai felt full of remorse and wished she could throw away her own baby bottle.
While Jun Moyan was sketching those drafts, she had always been by his side, so she knew very well that these were things he had painstakingly drawn, stroke by stroke, over several days.
In t ...
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