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... am was filled with those repetitive scenes, her childhood self being dragged by her mother’s hand and slapped across the face, biting her lip to keep from crying. Each tear she shed would only make her mother hit her harder, so she learned at a young age to control her tears, a skill she still possessed, now an instinct.

She dreamed of the humiliation and mockery from her fellow female disciples after joining the sect, laughing at her mother for being a prostitute, ridiculing her for bei ...

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