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... and she was somewhat different from the mother I remembered with a ruddy face and long black hair. different. But her eyes were still the same, and she kept smiling when she looked at me.

My little hand held my mother's hand, and my mother's hand was very cold. Even though I felt that the temperature in the room was a bit high, her hand was still surprisingly cold. I tried to warm my mother's hand with my hand.

"Rourou, happy birthday." My mother showed a warm smile and tried her ...

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