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... in my mind.
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I remembered that year, Zhang Jing Yu called me frantically, telling me that Xia Mu died. I held onto the phone and stayed silent for a long time; sadness filling my heart, my nose starting to prickle, and tears are about to fall down. Suddenly, the scene where I first met Xia Mu appeared before my eyes. That child, he owned a pair of cold and slightly gloomy eyes and an exquisite, perfect face. That chil ...
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