PREVIEW
... ttle chaotic. Her brain was operating at high speed, searching for harsh and decisive words.
But before she could think of anything, the soft voice of the man sounded again, a voice pitifully similar to Little Baozi’s!
"Weiwei, I’m sick. Very badly."
"What kind of sickness? Is it cancer?" Ye Weiwei, consumed by worry, didn’t realize that the illness he mentioned was not at all what she imagined.
"Heart disease. My heart’s missing a piece—congenital. Only by findin ...
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