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... village, deep pits of oil, horrifying charred corpses, a man gripping a woman’s hand...
The wind was blowing, the air thick like rolling oil, each breath filled with the scent of oil, smoke, and char...
...
"Thank you."
Yune suddenly spoke.
Desperation and resignation had set in her eyes.
But Song Cheng had not let go.
He was breathing heavily, as if his soul was pounding wildly, like tens of thousands of whale hearts beating in unison.
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