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Ever since Tang Zelin had mentioned the matter of submitting a marriage report to the higher-ups, Su Shu had the same dream for several days in a row.
In the dream, it was always a scene from her past life.
In front of the Martyrs’ Cemetery, she was dressed in a black skirt, wearing a small white flower, standing in front of a lonely gravestone.
The breeze lifted the hem of her skirt, the chill drying the tears on her cheeks.
A silent chasm separated life and ...
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