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... in lips curled up slightly.
He walked to the smoking area and sat down, holding a cigarette between his lips but not taking a puff, just letting it burn naturally.
His gaze was fixed on the entrance of the changing room, imagining her coming out in that dress.
The waiting time seemed a bit long.
He rested one hand on the armrest, tapping rhythmically to pass the time.
Finally, the door opened, and Song Yinyin walked out.
It was a pink dress, a yout ...
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