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... he hated.
However, he had no place to take root. In the end, he could only hate himself.
Ning Qing’s appetite wasn’t very good. She had only finished half a bowl of porridge and refused to eat it.
“Drink a little more, you’re sick too.”
“I can’t drink it.” Ning Qing tilted her head and refused.
“Ning, be good.”
He was begging her again, and her cold heart couldn’t take it anymore. She drank two more mouthfuls as he moved. enough, spit it out.
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