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... to eat tomorrow morning?
"Bean juice..." The old man said, smiling, though his speech was muddled.
Because of his stroke, his speech wasn’t clear, but now it was at least better than before, and you could faintly make out what he was saying.
"Then you’ll need to listen to the doctor later, okay? You’re going to have thrombolysis, so you mustn’t move around."
"Mhm, where are you going?"
"I’ll stand by your side."
"Why don’t you sit down for a while ...
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