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... small master was six years old, just a child, but quiet is not like a child of this age.
It was the little master who picked him up and saved him, pulled him out of the mud, took him around and waited for him.
He will always be grateful, and will never forget the scene. A beautiful child like an angel, extended his hand to him, white, tender, as if shrouded in white light.
And his own hands are thin, black, stained with dirt and blood, and they are embarrassed.
In sha ...
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