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... him occasionally fed her two soups. The soup was so bitter that the phoenix frowned, causing the wound in the chest to ache.

The little potatoes were eager to feed a sweet date in the small mouth of the phoenix. After careful observation of the wounds of his own master, he complained: "Miss, this is three days, the wound is still so serious, not at all."

Like to think of something, pouting a small mouth full of resentment, full of grievances, biting the teeth: "The world has said ...

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