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... n: Lin Feng’s Apartment, 2:03 AM
The rain came without thunder — a fine mist falling over Rootlight’s rooftops, soft enough to muffle tires, heavy enough to blur neon.
Lin Feng sat on the edge of his couch, staring at an envelope that hadn’t come through any official channel.
No sender.
No seal.
Just a name written in pencil on the front.
"Lin Feng (13)"
That number.
It wasn’t his age.
It was the nu ...
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