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... hen they heard Song Ning’s words.

The girl standing in front of them looked like she was in her early twenties. Her facial features were exquisite and sharp, and her limpid eyes were dark and a hint of stubbornness could be seen flashing from their depths. She wore a simple white skirt that was embroidered with an elegant orchid that snaked up from the tail of her skirt.

Song Ning raised the file in her hand and laughed self-deprecatingly before she said, “My name is Song Ning. T ...

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