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... he winter in Beijing is really cold. He Zhishu Mumu's hand-tidyed the scarf, and his hands were screwed with a few wrinkled test sheets. The heart is colder.

He stood under the stop sign and waited for the bus that didn't know when he could have it. His fingers were frozen and white. He took out the skilled dial-up of the mobile phone and dialed it after the automatic answer-up, but over and over again. Finally no one answered.

He Zhishu left the papers in groups and left them to t ...

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