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Lu Qingyan turned and bent down to pick up the notebook from the ground, its pages both moist and dirty with a musty smell.
But each passage in the front indicated it had been flipped through.
Lu Qingyan sighed softly, picked up the notebook, and, holding the dog cage, left.
He went to the kitchen, lit the stove, and tossed the notebook directly onto it. Flames danced in his dark pupils until all that remained was ash, then he turned off the fire.
As he pas ...
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