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... you, really?”
Old Jack grinned, scratching his head casually.
“I’m Old Jack, Tang Hao.”
His voice was hoarse and unpleasant—sharp, grating, as though it were trying to burrow directly into Tang Hao’s ears.
Tang Hao didn’t want to believe it. No—he refused to believe it. The strange, unfamiliar man before him... how could he possibly be the village chief Old Jack—the one who had looked after him and Little San all these years?
But the man’s appearance, his ...
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