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... ock in the morning the next day, Cao Su glanced at the two sleeping, and got up in a good mood to wash up. Standing on the balcony of the hotel, he watched the misty rain in the Central West Lake.
The drizzle is like silk and thread, like smoke like fog. The willow trees by the lake swayed with majesty, and the small islands and peaks in the lake were wrapped in layers of clouds and mist, as if they were covered with a hazy veil.
Like a beauty who wakes up, charming and moving. Rea ...
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