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... hand against her white waist, slightly against her soft hair, looking at the erosion in the night sky.
He is as indifferent as a person. When he speaks, the voice is low and warm, like a pool of temperature, quietly falling in her ear.
Jing Ling is in her ear and calls her name.
"Momo."
"Well, my brother."
"Look at this fireworks, let's get married."
He said, the hand with her little deer ring, ten fingers.
For this fireworks, he has waited for a ...
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~ postscript