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... Qingcheng said nothing. But in the dead of night, she often held the corner of the quilt alone and cried. Lin Feiyang watched her silently until she fell asleep. Then he opened the door quietly. In the firelight, tears rolled down You Qingcheng’s slightly upturned eyelashes. Damp and cold corroded the winter night. Lin Feiyang tucked her in.

“Thank you...” You Qingcheng choked up under the covers. Without Lin Feiyang, she would be dead. Who knew the resentment in her heart? The women in ...

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