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... . There is no shade around it to block the sun. There is only an ancient locust tree in the middle, which is as thick as three people hugging. Hanging, the air is filled with the scent of acacia honey.
The girls in light gauze skirts took out the red thread wooden plaques they carried with them, and threw them at the branches and leaves of the locust tree with all their strength. The wooden sign with small characters hangs down, swaying slightly with the falling pagoda tree leaves.
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