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... nd I was afraid that I would become crazy - Wang Li.".

Looking at this row of small characters that are as small as a fly, Ji Que can always read a kind of fear and madness from it, as if the huge fear in the heart of the painter named Wang Li is about to permeate through this drawing paper .

  If the painter is not really crazy, it can only mean that he really saw Guanyin Bodhisattva, and then painted a portrait of her with his own hands?

  But why can he draw so meticulous ...

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“Hurry to the hospital and donate your blood.” “Go to the hospital at once.” “Remember to donate blood at the hospital.” Even if she had already been donating blood for three times in the past few months, which then took a toll on her body, Huo Chuan never felt an ounce of pity for his so-called wife. After three years of marriage, Huo Chuan would only ever contact her to ask her to donate her blood to the hospital. No, accurately speaking, she was selling her blood. Selling it to Huo Chuan’s beloved woman, Bai Ting.

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After Yun Qing left the Huo family, she got into a luxurious car. Old Master Yun’s heart ached for his daughter. “Qingqing, you had a three-year agreement with me, that if he doesn’t love you, you will come home and inherit the company. Now, it’s time to uphold your promise.”