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... squatted down again, his long legs tensed, and his hands were a little sloppy, lifting Zheng Yi's hand that was still pressing on the black plastic pocket.
Black plastic bags are the worst kind, with a faint plastic smell.
Grabbing the plastic bag with one hand, pulling and tearing it apart, he shook his right arm greatly, "Crash!"
The banknotes flew out along the gap of the black plastic bag, some loose and bundles neatly tied.
Qiu Yu grabbed two or three stacks of ...
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