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... p> Yu Tingwan’s gaze remained indifferent.
The Zhao Family’s daughter looked up at her: "Sister Wan."
She walked over, patted the little girl’s head, and took out a handful of roasted pumpkin seeds made by Hui Niang from her bosom and gave them to her.
The hole didn’t matter, so she simply ignored it, picked up the stone stool, and moved it to another spot.
The Zhao family’s house was just ahead, the two houses were close, with only a narrow path in between for on ...
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