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... ain.
Bear it again. Shen Zhixian thought hauntingly, and soon he could get through.
In the chaos, he felt as if something had ripped his sleeve, and subconsciously touched it with his backhand, he felt a cold little hand, and was pulling his sleeve tightly.
who is it……?
The pain eased a bit, and he barely sobered, following the little hand, he felt a thin body-about a seven or eight year old child.
The child's wrists were as thin as firewood, and Shen Zhixian h ...
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