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On the plane, when He Yun had taken off his mask and greeted her proactively, she had already confirmed his tragic ending.

She had also figured out his current predicament of being trapped by family and unable to escape.

Borrowing the plowing machine was just a convenient move; the real goal was to help him out of his adversity.

Thinking of this, Jiang Li pulled out his phone, opened WeChat, and found Shen Lan’s contact.

“Second Aunt, do you have some time? ...

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“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

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Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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