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... Qian had held her hand when they were young, but gradually, Nangong Qian no longer held his sister’s hand when the two of them grew up.
Nangong Qian looked at the hand that was holding his. It was beautiful, fair and delicate, with ten fingers as slender as bamboo shoots and round fingers. In Prince Shang’s hand, his meticulous selection of ancient books seemed to pale in comparison.
Nangong Qian suddenly came to a realization and wanted to hold onto this hand tightly, but this thoug ...
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