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... at Lu Yi always carried with him. This was Lu Yi’s scent. During both her past life or her current life, Lu Yi smelt the same. In fact, she did not know where Lu Yi got his scent from. It was as though he was born with this perfume, but at the same time, it also smelt like his usual shaving cream.
Lu Yi rested his arm on Yan Huan’s shoulder before he gently patted her on her shoulder in a rhythmic manner. Before long, Yan Huan’s breathing became steady. She had fallen asleep.
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