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... oor, just like usual, she was buried in the blankets reading some materials.
When she encountered something she didn’t understand, she would habitually bite the end of her pen, her cherry lips pouting around the pen cap, a motion that was both playful and slightly casual.
This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.
It was almost eleven o’clock. She was wounded and had received such a shock. To be honest, her eyelids were struggling to stay open. She was dozing off.
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