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... Ying’s voice couldn’t help but rise a few notches.
“Where did these children come from?”
Fang Qian stood under the moonlight, his expression somewhat sorrowful: “You refuse to even acknowledge this now?”
“Yuanxiao, Yuan Lang, Xiu Xiu, they are my own flesh and blood, you told me that yourself.”
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“Don’t you remember that Mid-Autumn Festival when I got drunk, and afterwards I didn’t know anything anymore? To keep ...
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