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... fter looking at it for a long time, she felt that her eyes hurt a little, she blinked and looked away.
Shen Rongyu's big hand held her hand, and his fingertips pressed slightly against her knuckles, leading her to hold the brush tightly.
The wrist is turned over, the back of the hand is touching the palm, rubbing slightly, the tip of the pen is bent, and swirled lightly, soaking in the color in the puddle of blood.
Even though Ji Qingzhuo's back is facing Shen Rongyu now, an ...
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