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... nothing.
Ah Wan chattered on and on, “Do you think Miss Zhou could be a fairy that descended from Heaven? Once she passes her ordeal, she’ll ascend back to Heaven.”
What an imagination!
Ah Wan even admired his own creativity; he could debut as a scriptwriter.
In the dead of night, the only sounds in the corridor were coughs and the boss’s cold, disdainful voice, “What kind of messy TV show have you been watching again?”
What do you mean messy!
... ...
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