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... u Xinzhi’s chest had always felt like it was blocked with cotton wool. This long-term blockage had left a lingering scent of blood, so much so that he always felt a suffocating sweetness at the back of his throat.
This sentence from Ding Qiuyun was the same as throwing a match onto the cotton wool, causing his entire chest to burst into flames. It made him feel both happy and desperate.
Just now, he’d spent several months in a dream that only lasted ...
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