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... oportionate in his hands, and staggered across the threshold.
At noon in midsummer, all the people in the village went to work, and the quiet dirt road only heard the noise of cicadas. The sun is passing through the dense redwood trees, and it is sprinkled in the front yard, and the basin of water splashes along with the little boy's pace, reflecting the shaking golden light.
At last he stopped and bent down to put the basin on the ground. A pair of rough and dry hands picked up th ...
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