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... he second floor, and entered their bedroom.
There was a huge painting in front of the bed, and it was her. She was sitting quietly on the balcony of the apartment where she had lived for a long time. She was surrounded by lush flowers and plants. It was dusk, and the gentle light enveloped her. She smiled gently.
Wen Qiao felt a little suffocated.
How many days and nights had he laid in bed like this, looking at the painting in front of him to relieve his longing?
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