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... oking fresh, tender, and utterly girlish.
“Isn’t this Rong Yan’s show? Why is there piano music?” Xia Xue whispered.
Fu Ya, who was still basking in the afterglow of her moment in front of tens of thousands in the venue, frowned at the words, annoyance written all over her domineering face, “It must be a CD playing backstage!”
Xia Xue listened carefully, pursed her lips, and said, “That doesn’t sound right, there’s also a violin ensemble.”
“Why are you so suspicio ...
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