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Chapter 1687 Who Is This Man?

  • The man’s shoulders were broad, but his hair was white. His face was time ravaged and rather lethargic.
  • Lu Zhengzhe stared at the portrait in stunned silence. When Liu Yingluo was drawing him, her brushstrokes were gentle. Every single inch of the man’s features was drawn with great care, as if she had stroked his face with her hand countless times in her dreams.
  • There were a few dried spots on the portrait. Those were her tears.
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