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The heavy wooden door of the church stood before us, weathered by time but maintained with care. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the building's roof, giving it an aura of grandeur tinged with unease.

I knocked lightly but firmly enough for the sound to resonate through the still air. The knock echoed, amplifying the village's eerie silence.

Moments later, footsteps approached. The door creaked open, revealing a young woman standing in the threshold.

She appeared ...

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My name was Yuan Junyao, a name my grandmother gave me, meaning “beautiful jade”, although I was not beautiful at all. Actually I was ugly.

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