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... wen's pinkish shirt and couldn't help but let her thoughts wander, especially because Zhou Yuwen's clothes were still unwashed, retaining his scent.
Yes, Zhou Yuwen's scent.
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This scent was too familiar.
On the toilet, Qu Jing's slender legs, wrapped in over-knee socks, delicately sat in a slightly pigeon-toed position. She took deep breaths of the scent emanating from Zhou Yuwen's clothes, intoxicating herself.
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