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... earlier, I’d have stabbed more holes in my hand to make my wife worry about me.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Who would be worried about you?”

“Wife, it was an accident,” he said in grievance, “Look at me, so weak in my hands and feet, yet I’m still rushing to make clothes for you. I got pricked by a needle, and you’re not even comforting me.”

“Alright, alright,” she said casually, “Third brother, you’re so mistreated.” Then she tried to stand up, “Third brother, you don ...

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