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... sroom, the students waited until Nan Zhubin’s silhouette disappeared at the end of the corridor before finally completing the last major question on their self-assessment papers and matching it with the blackboard.
Then, they all revealed looks of incredulity.
You have to know, this recitation wasn’t of some internally connected ancient poems or essays.
Instead, it was a mix of numbers, letters, and symbols that would make anyone’s head hurt just at a glance!
"Isn ...
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