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People sometimes don't know why they're sad, why they're sad, why they're happy.

It's like me right now, looking out the window on the tarmac as planes come in and leave. I don't know why the tears can't stop flowing. Sadness or joy. It's just that I can't tell what this sadness is for, and what this joy is for.

Soon, I returned to R City, and my brother was working intensely in City A. I didn't call or message him again after that crying, President, there's always something for him to do. These bullshit things are not worth talking about every day. It's my brother, after the last time, I'm afraid I'll change my phone number, every ......

Chapter 52 of "Picking Up a Childhood Plum: Bamboo Horse Guardian Formula" Dispute is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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