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Chapter 825: Washing Hair
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... ent, where the orange glow of the fire outside could be glimpsed, a small pale hand rested softly on his chest. Shen Mo had no desire to sleep.
Occasionally, low voices would carry over, with his companions talking about the maze, or the Minotaur, or lice…
Shen Mo listened, his gaze drifting unconsciously down to the little hand on his chest.
He gently grasped it.
So soft…
...
So tender…
The skin was silky smooth and cool to the touch, turn ...
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