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Grass.
Ziao Bai jumped up from the pillar at the end of the bed with a "crash", and ran away. He ran to the elevator in one breath, and quickly pressed the elevator to enter.
The elevator door reflected his guilty conscience.
My grass.
Ziao Bai rubbed his face heavily, his chin hurt, it was the amulet shaking up.
The thin ropes were still wrapped around his fingers, and those circles were gray-black with agarwood, forming a clear contrast with his palene ...
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