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... ighty people headed together and turned to look at the direction of the voice.
The village chief was shocked: "Qing Zhai?"
The sky is still filled with finely shattered snowflakes. Only outside the crowd, standing with a pair of mothers and daughters helping each other, the mother's face is good and the body is weak; the son looks good and looks like a bamboo.
Snowflakes fell on the shoulders of the teenagers, dressed in plain shorts, but at the age of thirteen or four, the ...
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