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... to winter. The wind outside was damp and sharp, like knives carried on mist.
Han Qiongnian sucked in a breath through her teeth, shivering, then quickly stepped inside. From her sleeve, she pulled out a scroll and laid it on the desk. Next, she fetched the nearby oil lamp, placed it beside the scroll, and grinned at her daughter with hands on her hips.
Xie Yu closed the door behind her, cast a glance at the scroll, and sighed.
“Mother...what are you doing?”
Han Qi ...
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