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... pression.
At his nod, she reached her hand into the crack, felt around twice, and let out a gasp.
Her hand felt as though it had been scorched; her small face turned white with fright.
"Wh... what is this?!" Suizi lowered her voice and whispered in Yu Jingting’s ear so only they could hear, "An urn?!"
Yu Jingting was speechless, her imagination was quite vivid, wasn’t it?
What Suizi touched was cold, like pottery, about the size of three palms spread out. ...
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