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... the air told me it was late—somewhere between midnight and regret.
Mu Qinglan and Yifei were still asleep. Yifei clung to the blanket like a child, one leg draped over Qinglan’s hip. Both of them looked peaceful.
But I only needed a few hours... so I wasn’t.
Slipping out of bed, I pulled on some clothes and tiptoed toward the second floor. I didn’t bother with a lantern. I didn’t want light. I wanted cold. The kind that bit at your skin and made you remember you were stil ...
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