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... few pieces of broken grass? has she never seen flowers before? !”
Uncle Zhang stood by his side with his hands hanging down, trying not to laugh. “President, maybe Miss Xiao Qiao simply likes flowers.”
The palace saint was silent for a while. He stared at the sender’s name on the Lavender Bouquet card. It would take a good eye to recognize that it was a handwritten “H”.
Who was “H”?
A man’s shadow flashed through his mind.
Huo Qingtong?
That fresh ...
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