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... anceled
Fu Ziyuan looked at the Wen Yuci in front of him.
He had fallen for her during their school days.
She was pure, refined, gentle, and dignified, like a little fairy from the heavens.
He still remembered the first time he saw her.
She had jet black, smooth hair that came down to her waist, meticulously cared for, wearing the school’s uniform red plaid blazer with a skirt of the same color scheme.
Knee-length socks and impeccably clean black l ...
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