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... the man on his shoulder was like a soft prickle, stabbing him in his heart.
“Don’t cry…” He said in a hoarse voice. His body felt too hot—it was as if his throat was full of embers blazing slowly, each word bathed in burns.
As he said so, he gently held the back of Qi Jing’s head with his hand, pulling him closer to himself. He heard Qi Jing answer with a soft “mn”, the face pressed on his chest rubbed against him twice. But Qi Jing’s shoulders were still trembling—his righ ...
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