PREVIEW
... at her seat, from Zhao Meimei’s angle, she looked like a seedling battered by the elements, nearly withered, pitiful yet leaving one unsure of how to lend a helping hand.
Add some water, and it might swell up; add some soil, and it seems it might be easily bent by a slight pressure.
Zhao Meimei glimpsed the overlapping footprints on the back of Wang Jiayue’s school uniform, recalling the empty, helpless, yet slightly hopeful look she saw through the disarray of hair when she fou ...
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