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... r her, but placed the umbrella at the door.
Luo Dust gently sighed and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, it was already nine o'clock in the evening.
The mobile phone has long been gone, and Lu Yihang should have gone home.
Hold up the umbrella, leave the hotel, walk aimlessly on the street.
I always feel that something is not quite right. It is the helplessness of Yurou’s smoking, or her pretty smile.
And just in this second, she forgot the traffic ligh ...
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