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... Jihan was not sleeping well and vaguely had a dream.
In the dream, Song Yinyin was wearing a white dress, her seaweed-like long hair spread gently, like seaweed, over his shoulders.
She reached out her slender fingers, caressing his cheek, his eyebrows, mouth, and nose, as if playing.
He couldn’t help but capture her small hand, pulling her into his embrace.
Strangely, she didn’t resist him like she usually would, instead she burrowed deeper into his embrace.
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