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... Once Bai Luo finally stopped playing, the old man couldn’t help but approach—clearly intending to reclaim his precious instrument.
"Are you sure you can’t give it to me?"
Bai Luo looked down at the erhu in his hands, sighing with genuine reluctance.
This erhu was clearly crafted by a master artisan. He had no idea where the old man had picked it up, but if he could keep it—even for a price—he’d pay without hesitation.
"I can’t," the old man said solemnly, "Your sk ...
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