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... an, follow me.”
“Thank… Thanks.”
Lan quietly thanked her. Then, she followed Nanan, feeling anxious.
‘Wash up?
‘What does that mean?’
She thought about it and looked at her injured right hand. She hid it further under her sleeve.
‘Did the Saint think my right hand’s dirty? How does washing up help? Can this be washed off?’
She felt conflicted. They arrived downstairs.
Nanan walked to the basin and said, “Sister Lan, here.”
“Yeah… Oh!” Lan sna ...
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