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... ow frame, were still handprints left from being slammed. It looked like the marks left by a struggle, engraved on the eyes of a man in despair.
Through the window, one could see that the open space outside had returned to barrenness and silence, the dead branches stretching out into the sky, like the five fingers of a hand.
If it weren’t for the large bloodstains that were wetting the ground, it would almost make one think that everything was just an illusion.
Mo Yi gazed ...
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