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Qin Nuo looked down, as if to confirm his words. The night breeze blew through, and the petals of the silver lotus trembled. Sure enough, two or three petals began to fall out. After a while, what Qin Nuo held in his hand left only one. A bare anemone stalk is off.

"It would be a pity to stop picking it if I knew it." Qin Nuo couldn't help complaining.

Chen Yan laughed lowly, stepped forward and bent over, picked up the petals falling on the corridor one by one, and then wa ...

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