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... ent for a moment, then sighed softly. “I still remember this day. When I was ten, my foster mother went to a relative’s house for a gathering. She got drunk and when she came back, she beat me with a wooden stick while crying, lamenting why it had to be her daughter who died and not me. She said how good it would have been if I were the one who died, so her daughter could have lived.”
Gu Junzhu’s brow furrowed tighter, and his heart ached as if being twisted.
He couldn’t imagine ...
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