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Chapter 145 Time Fog_1
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... ing wreaths out of wildflowers he had picked from the surroundings. Around the little boy lay numerous wreaths, some new, some old, and many already withered. Immersed in his craft, the boy placed each finished wreath beside him, then picked up more flowers to start another.
After a while, an elder walked over, seeming quite sentimental as he gazed upon the wreaths scattered on the ground. After speaking to the boy and looking around nostalgically, a gentle breeze began to blow, lifting ...
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