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... to the trash can casually, with a cold voice.
Bai Po leaned against the tree, replaying this scene in his mind.
The black hair was sticking wetly to her pale neck. She put on a black windbreaker, yawned lazily, and then gave a number to the old man beside her.
The old man supported the frame on the bridge of his nose, and seeing that she finally remembered a number, he took out his mobile phone and dialed out. The call was quickly connected, "Hello, is this Song Min's ...
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