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Chapter Seventy One


Music produced by females were usually gentle and touching. Qu Qing Ju leaned back against the cushion, her index finger slowly caressing the rim of her tea cup. She watched the flower petals fall on Qu Yue Su's hair. The wind blew and the petals all fell down, displaying a special kind of charm.


Due to the influence of her profession in the previous life, she li ...

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