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... d others were fighting over the swing, and the usually gentle Nan Mo swung his fist at the boys who laughed at her.
Thinking about it, perhaps he hasn’t changed.
It’s just that her Nan Mo has matured. He can now handle many things on his own and won’t get up at four in the morning to stand in line for her just for a swing.
Those days were so tough, yet so joyful and happy.
Her vision blurred again, and the features of the man in front of her also became blurry, le ...
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