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... assed by every minute and second.
Mo Ke racked his brains, using every method he could think of, from singing nursery rhymes, speaking nicely, just short of kneeling down and treating Han as an ancestor to kowtow to, yet the door did not budge.
“Little ancestor!”
Mo Ke lay on the door, completely disregarding his image, as he patted the door and desperately begged, “Young master, please open the door! I beg you to open it. Shall uncle take you to buy some delicious food, ...
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