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... had already flipped to the poetry page.
The invigilator stopped beside Meng Fu and lowered his head to watch her write a line of poetry smoothly.
Her handwriting on the paper was not so scribbled. It was very neat and well-defined. The invigilator had taught so many students, but this was the first time she had seen such beautiful handwriting. She stopped in her tracks.
Which class was this student from?
How come I’ve never heard of it before?
He paid special ...
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