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... ight peeking through the reinforced glass, waking me from my nightmare. An image from the past—suffering my father's cold, disappointed gaze.
A tingling feeling of pins and needles spread through my limbs as I opened my eyes, noticing a familiar aroma and weight leaning against me.
Mu Qinglan's head rested on my shoulder, likely the source of the dull pain in my left arm. Her face was only a few inches from mine, breathing softly. Nothing like her zombie or business self. Just a ...
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