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“Madam, you didn’t accidentally throw away that paper doll, did you?”
An Jing muttered.
“Husband, what are you looking for?”
At that time, Zhao Qingmei also walked into the bedroom and saw An Jing standing in front of the wardrobe, which made her a bit anxious.
As he spoke, An Jing gestured, “The paper doll I was making, about the size of a palm.”
“Really, you’re so grown up and still playing with paper dolls.”
Zhao Qingme ...
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