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... and phoenix patterns, hung half-draped, sketching out the graceful charm of spring and blocking most of the light.
Unavoidable, yet irremovable.
Shen Hua’s almond-shaped eyes brimmed with mist. Large teardrops fell one after another, her sobbing deeply aggrieved, like a mix of resentment and complaint.
Outside the window, it began to rain at some unknown time. Pitter-patter, steadily.
In the silent night, the sound of rain grew louder.
The moon climbed at ...
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