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... th emotion, and before he could even sit down, he heard his mother’s voice.
"Xiao Yang."
"Mom."
Zhong Hailan followed him upstairs, her small frame bustling with activity.
In Xue Yang’s memory, his mother was in a perpetual state of motion. Sometimes, he didn’t even know what she was busy with, but she always had something to do. It was as if she couldn’t stay idle for a single moment.
"I’ve tidied up your room. I even aired out the quilts and clothes agai ...
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