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... e sun-drenched balcony, a black-haired boy of six or seven sat quietly, staring into the bustling street outside, lost in thought.
A gentle and beautiful woman approached, "Little Hou, breakfast is ready."
"Oh, coming." The black-haired boy responded, getting up from the floor.
Looking at the approaching black-haired boy, Wang Jiaqi could sense a kind of unspeakable solitude from this boy who had just turned seven.
This feeling grew stronger as he grew older, maki ...
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