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... rd’s nest was, sensing only the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, which felt like where she belonged.
From the moment she became conscious, she was either beaten or scolded, her constant companion being the nauseating, rusty stench of blood.
Mu Rongche let her bite him without stopping or persuading her, until she grew tired and lay on his shoulder, gradually tilting her head and falling asleep.
One hand holding the bird’s nest and the other cradling her, Mu Rongche’s ...
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