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Zhuang Lang, or perhaps Jiachen, who was squatting in the corner cried. He had no idea what he had gained and what he had lost.

Only pain penetrated his heart.

At five in the morning he came to Tang Xiruo's room again, and the moment the door opened, he took her in his arms and held her tight. His lips pressed against her forehead, feeling her warmth. He didn't want to release it