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... the ground. In the dim yellow, there are some faint snowflakes dancing slowly. In the quiet courtyard, Gu Qingci is holding a piece of rice paper in his hand, stepping on the snowflakes, quietly Looking at it quietly, the little bit of handwriting is very graceful:
—It is great luck to meet you.
I never thought that one day I would be unable to lay hands on someone. These **** hands would actually tremble.
That day, it was snowing heavily, and I met you.
But ...
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