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... ner. In the center of the diagonal is a wooden coffin. Han Ruizhi's disintegrated corpse lay desolately in the cold coffin, covered with a white cloth.
Holding a lantern in hand, Han Li stood in front of his son's coffin with red and swollen eyes. He didn't know how long he had been here, but he didn't seem to do anything, just weeping dryly at the vague silhouette of the human body under the white cloth.
Zhou Ziruo felt even more strange when he saw Han Li's painful profile from t ...
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