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... cer's smile is kind and warm, like a bright spring sun shining into the most hazy corner of the heart, Qiao Wei likes it a bit.
"Xiao Wei." Chaucer smiled and spoke.
Qiao Wei’s ciliary feathers trembled with an irregular rhythm and set her mind. She walked to Chaucer, opened her lips, closed it, closed it, and opened it again: “Father... Father...”
Can't call it.
Chaucer patted the bed gently.
Qiao Wei sat down.
I don't know why, my heart is cramped, lik ...
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