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Fang Lan was standing by the window, wearing a white down jacket that had not been taken off, and put the things in her hand on the small table by the window.
What was taken out was a small casserole. It could be seen that it was made by hand, but it was impossible to tell what kind of soup it was.
While Fang Lan was putting things on the table, she kept looking at Ran Qiu at the door as if scrutinizing her.
Ran Qiu walked in with a cold air coming from the outside. ...
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