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Zhao Rong’s hand holding the scroll of book lifted, and as Yourong was caught off-guard, it fell again.
Thud—!
A somewhat muffled sound, coming from the thick scroll, intimately contacted her high-bunned hair and the exposed snow-white forehead.
She had been ambushed again.
The woman in the Confucian robe narrowed her willow eyes, and in the next moment, she took the scroll from Zhao Rong’s hands.
Zhao Rong, facing her sideways, his lips curled up s ...
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