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... her feet. Her legs wobbled slightly, and he kept a steadying hand on her arm.

She barely noticed. Her breaths was shallow and uneven, but this time, she forced herself to stay upright.

Feng Yizhou studied her carefully. "What did you see?"

Qingran swallowed. Her throat felt dry, like she had swallowed dust. She could still see the files burned into her memory—the research, the names, her own name.

Her voice came out hoarse. "It was them."

Feng Yizhou waite ...

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