After a few minutes of hard threats, they failed to squeeze anything more from Tinjau and began to grow anxious. The short man continued to adopt a fierce demeanor, while the man in the hat tugged at him, urging him to back off.
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At this point, Tinjau felt little fear; instead, a stronger emotion welled up within him—helplessness. *(If I hadn’t smoked that joint earlier, I could have confidently called the police and had these two guys, along with everyone in the tea house, uprooted. But would they just sit there waiting for the police to arrive? Would they let me make the call? Would they even keep me alive?)*
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Perhaps it was the effect of the marijuana, a surge of anger began to rise within Tinjau. The two men before him were both shorter than he was, their grip on his collar not particularly strong, and they didn’t show any weapons... *(He’s just putting on a fierce expression and hurling Vietnamese foul language to me. Why they dare to threaten me? Because they expected that foreign tourists are all timid, and just want to pay up to avoid trouble?)*
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Fueled by rage, Tinjau looked at the short guy who was tugging at his collar and spitting at him arrogantly. Perhaps it was the body's natural reaction, or perhaps Tinjau was consciously raised his right hand, and his elbow hit the bridge of the short man's nose. The short guy screamed and fell to the ground immediately, his nosebleed flowing out at an exaggerated speed, staining his shirt in red.
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Seeing his companion go down, the man in the hat quickly hopped onto his motorcycle, intending to flee. Tinjau ignored him. Tinjau grabbed the shoulders of the short guy and pulled him up, then kicked away the short guy’s hands that were covering his nose and trampled them under his feet. Tinjau then delivered another punch to the short guy’s nose, knocking him back down to the ground.
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In the past twenty-some years of his life, this was the first time Tinjau confronted violence head-on with his own hands. This went against everything he had been taught, that any form of violence for any reason is wrong. But after he struck against the short guy, the pain from his fist was the satisfaction and fulfillment that surged from defending himself with sheer personal strength made him tremble with excitement.
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What is wrong? Is it right to be robbed by these two ruffians? Is it wrong to confrontation with violence?
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Whatever.
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Tinjau looked up and noticed the man in the hat still desperately trying to start his motorcycle, but for some reason, the engine wouldn’t turn over. With a fierce look in his eyes, Tinjau approached the man in the hat slowly and then kicked him and his motorcycle over. Furthermore, he yanked the man’s body up and gave him a right hook.
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Huff...
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The exhausted Tinjau bent over, gasping for breath, yet he couldn’t stop laughing. It felt just exhilarating. And he was not alone; two unfamiliar voices joined in his laughter.
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Two young Vietnamese men, passing by, stopped their motorcycle beside Tinjau. They were extremely excited, patting Tinjau on the shoulders and giving him thumbs up. They kept talking in Vietnamese and occasionally kicking those two ruffians lying on the ground.
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They managed to communicate with Tinjau in broken English. They told him that they had witnessed similar activities several times when driving along this stretch of road in the past. But they never dared to intervene, after all, this was not the center of Ho Chi Minh City.
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“You Chinese really have guts. When those big white guys were brought here, Didn't they always get slapped in the face and then hand over their money in tears?”
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One of them, caught up in the moment, chatted away with Tinjau, while the other guy was calmer, warning that if they stayed longer, they might run into the ruffians’ accomplices. They immediately squatted down and looted the two ruffians lying on the ground.
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Finding 200US dollars in the short guy’s pocket, they understood what was happening and didn’t keep the money for themselves. They returned the money to Tinjau. It was at that moment that Tinjau truly believed these two people wanted to help him.
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“But how do I leave?” Tinjau began to worry. Although the highway is busy with traffic, he couldn’t see a single taxi passing by. Taxis were probably a luxury that only appeared in the city center, specifically to serve tourists. No tourists would come to such a suburban area.
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They casually suggested, “We have a motorcycle.”
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But these two people only had one motorcycle. Even if they didn’t mind carrying an extra person, Tinjau didn’t know where he could sit. The two men not even bother to say anything. They just simply picking up the motorcycles of those two ruffians, starting the engines, and telling Tinjau, “There are three of us and three motorcycles here. One for each of us.”
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“What? Isn’t that stealing?”
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“They’re thugs; everything they have was taken from the citizens. We certainly have the rights to take it back.”
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What kind of sense of entitlement is this? Tinjau thought. But seeing the short guy he had knocked down slowly regaining consciousness, he feared that lingering too long might lead to complications. He took the helmet the two young men tossed to him, put it on, and sped off on the motorcycle. Tinjau even forgot that he didn’t have a driver’s license.
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After making plans for a night of revelry, the two young men hurried off to work. When Tinjau returned to the hotel, he still with a feeling of longing for more excitement. Once he saw Siupui waiting outside the hotel door, he seems to wake up and felt a chill of sweat suddenly because of the crazy behavior he had just done.
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In a foreign country, casually hopping on someone else’s motorcycle, leaving the city center, took drugs offered by strangers, knocking down two locals and robbing them. And then stealing their motorcycles, and selling them to underground shops that deal in such illicit goods for travel expenses...
What kind of “travel experience” is this?
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With a guilty mood, Tinjau recounted his morning adventure to Siupui. As he spoke, he gradually becoming excited again. Later, he was practically beaming with joy, like a child showing off his treasure, exaggerating with all sorts of body language to convey the atmosphere and events of that moment.
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Siupui was still angry at first, gradually became relieved as she listened. In her opinion, it seemed Tinjau had finally “gotten into the groove.”
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Due to his overwhelming excitement, Tinjau proudly recounted his morning adventures to the receptionist girl in the golden cheongsam in the hotel lobby in that evening.
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The girl should be less than twenty years old, and her life experience was far less than Siupui’s. She seemed a bit cautious upon hearing Tinjau taking drugs and fighting, but as Tinjau continued his story, her expression turned to one of envy.
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“I am sorry for what happened to you. Vietnam is not a country with very good public security, especially in the suburbs. Even locals feel dangerous when passing through.”
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“No need to apologize. It’s not your fault.”
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“I really envy your courage. If I were a boy, I’d want to try beating up those thugs too.”
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“Being a girl isn’t so bad.” Tinjau replied and feeling his words were somewhat clumsy. After all, with the English skills he had developed for work, he felt a bit forced to use his English to flirting with girls. He then quickly shifted the topic, “As a girl, it must feel satisfying when the boy you like asks you out, right?”
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“Who would want to date me…” she sighed.
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From her alluring expression, Tinjau could tell she wasn’t a callow girl who do not have any life experience. She looked deceptively innocent.
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“So, you... don’t have any dates after work tonight?”
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“What’s it to you? Do you want to ask me out?”
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Tinjau then told her that he had made plans with the two young men to have a wild night, spending the money earned from selling the stolen motorcycles. They had promised to take him to popular local entertainment spots, not the usual hot spot for tourist.
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“But... are you going to dressed like that?” she asked.
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“What’s wrong with my outfit?”
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“With your outfit, people will immediately see you and think you’re Japanese or Korean. Walking in busy places will attract pickpockets. Especially with your small eyes and tall stature, you don’t look much like a Vietnamese.” She thought for a while and said, “I will get off work in an hour. I can take you to buy some local trendy clothes. How about that?”
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Surprisingly, Siupui didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the invitation for the night out.
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“I actually have some things to take care of while I’m in Vietnam. So, let’s go out separately tonight,” she said.
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Tinjau, somewhat intentionally, withheld the fact that he was planning to take the receptionist girl along.
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After changing into authentic Vietnamese attire, the shop owner greeted him in Vietnamese. Tinjau thought to himself: Finally, I don’t have to constantly wonder if they’re trying to rip me off as a tourist.
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After meeting up with his two Vietnamese friends, they took the cheapest bus and guiding Tinjau through the streets and alleys of the civilian area. And they kept teasing him about his relationship with the receptionist girl along the way.
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“It seems we really should start calling you ‘Boss.’ You’ve only been in Vietnam a few days and already have such a beautiful girlfriend.”
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The girl didn’t deny. Tinjau only responded with a smile. But what is in his mind was: (I don’t even know her name yet. Seriously, this situation is the same as when I met Siupui, I must ask the name of the girl earlier next time.)*
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Vietnamese people love to dance. Tinjau rarely went to discos during his student days, so he was not good at it. But encouraged by them, he could learn to dance randomly. By the end of the night, he was able to move with the rhythm.
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He particularly enjoyed watching the receptionist girl dance. She had a slender waist and a nice figure. Although she dressed simply compared to the ubiquitous Vietnamese “hot girls”. When the girl moved her body, she effortlessly captured all of Tinjau’s attention...
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**DAY 9**
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After partying all night long, still feeling exhilarated, Tinjau returned to the hotel just as the sun almost rise above the head. He collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep until he was woken up by a phone call.
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It was Siupui who called from the next room.
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“What’s up? Did you get enough sleep?
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“...Pretty much.”
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“Shall we go to have some food? I’m starving~~”
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“Is it morning or evening?”
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“Watch the clock yourself. Call me when you’re ready.”
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It turns out it is evening again. Tinjau suddenly felt hungry. After a quick wash-up, he went out with Siupui.
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As they passed through the hotel lobby, Tinjau noticed the girl in the golden cheongsam was already back to her usual duties, greeting him with a meticulous service smile. She didn’t even have dark circles under her eyes. It is great to be young.
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As he walked by casually, Tinjau glanced back and saw the girl was also looking at him. She pointed at Siupui, who had already walked out of the hotel. Tinjau immediately made a “please keep it a secret” gesture, to which the girl smiled knowingly.
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As for why he needed to keep it secret? That was a question for Tinjau.
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That evening in Ho Chi Minh City was the hottest since they arrived, almost like hell had descended. Siupui’s mood was obviously bad. What had she been up to the night before? What was the purpose for her choosing to coming to Vietnam this time?
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Siupui excitedly discovered that the red wine was actually from Vietnam. Initially, she said she just wanted to taste it, but after tasting it, she started guzzling it down.
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“You’re drinking too much.”
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“Hey! Look!” She slapped Tinjau’s back so hard, and urging him to look at the clear, cloudless night sky.
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Tinjau turned to look and was immediately stunned.
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The sky was filled with ordinary plastic balloons floating randomly. But there were so many of them. They traced the balloons back to their source. It turned out they all flew out from the small park lawn in the center of the octopus-shaped traffic junction.
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The lawn was surrounded by parked motorcycles, with countless couples sitting on their bikes or leaning on benches. Young married couples are sitting on the grass, watching their children run around, chasing the balloon. The latest craze at that time in Vietnam was: inflating balloons and then release them and let them floating in the air.
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Such a simple pastime. Yet to Tinjau, the whole scene felt so warm and moving.
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He felt an impulse to join them and want to become one of them.
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But Siupui grabbed Tinjau’s arm and forced him to toast with her.
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“We are always outsiders. No matter how hard you try to step into someone else’s life, you will always be just an outsider.”
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“Siupui, why did you come to Vietnam this time?”
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“Don’t try to step into my life,” she snapped. “No matter how close two people are, how well they understand each other, they will always be strangers. Each of us is a perpetual outsider, no matter where we are or who we are with. That’s the only thing I’ve learned from my journey over the past year.”
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“You’re drunk, Siupui. Let me help you back to the hotel to rest.” Tinjau grabbed her arm, trying to pull her up, but she leaned into him, collapsing into his embrace.
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“I feel so lonely…” She buried her face in his chest and finally began to cry. “Why didn’t you wait for me a few more days? I still have so much to say to you, so much to say… Why…are you being so cruel… just leaving me like this?”
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Tinjau recalled the person in the tomb who had just been buried at dusk that day.
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After sending Siupui back to her room, Tinjau still hadn’t shaken off the sadness that had infected him earlier. He went out for a stroll, bought an ice pop, most of it melted in just two or three minutes. The heat was unbearable.
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He returned to the hotel and chatted with the receptionist girl.
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The girl wore no makeup as usual, her face appearing a bit too plain, her hair tied back in a small ponytail, but she had a slender and youthful figure. Though she looked quite simple, her every gesture carried a hint of tropical allure, especially her slightly lazy double eyelids which seems a bit sexy.
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“Have you ever studied in the UK?”
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Tinjau was confused by her question. He politely asked why she thought so, and she replied, “Because your English sounds beautiful, like the tone of the male leads in British films.”
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This was the second time in a week. It seemed the overall English proficiency of Vietnamese people was lower than that of Chinese people.
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Tinjau didn’t know how to respond, so he just giggled. His response amused the girl.
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“Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend along last night?”
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“You mean the girl I was traveling with? She’s not my girlfriend.”
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The girl ignored Tinjau’s words and asked. “Were you two arguing?”
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“Don’t you believe me?”
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“Watching you two come and go these past few days, even though there wasn’t any intimate behavior, I still feel like you two are not just ‘ordinary’ friends traveling together.”
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“She really isn’t.”
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“Then are you… sleeping alone tonight?” she gathering her courage to asked, her face suddenly got blushed.
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“...Certainly.”
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After making plans with the girl, Tinjau’s heart raced and never returned to a normal pace. He was fidgeting around the room, feeling like he was waiting forever for her to get off from work.
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At eleven-thirty, with thirty minutes to go, he decided to take a good shower.
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He couldn’t understand this sudden surge of sexual desire. Normally, he should have resisted such temptation. But if everything followed logic, how could he leave his job and come to Vietnam?
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Tinjau just felt very frustrated.
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He needed a warm embrace to relieve this frustration.
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When Tinjau came out from the bathroom naked, he found the bedside lamp dimmed to a soft glow, and gentle old jazz music filled the room with an elegant and comfortable ambiance, which reminding him the French colonial era in Ho Chi Minh City he had seen in movies.
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For a moment, he thought the girl waiting for him on the bed was the receptionist. But as he got closer, he realized it was Siupui, wearing a sheer black nightgown.
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“You didn’t close the door… were you expecting a night raid from someone?” Her little hand painted with bright nail polish was wrapped around Tinjau’s member and gently fondled it.
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Tinjau wanted to say something to her, but Siupui quickly picked up the pace, leaving him unable to say anything but moan. “In these past few days, I’ve only been thinking about one thing: wanting you inside me, wanting you to hold me tightly. Earlier, when we were at the hotel lobby checking in, I was thinking about pulling you up to room right away and having sex with you over and over again, but somehow, I ended up doing the opposite. I regret it… I feel so lonely… I want you… Tinjau… I want you…”
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Her warm lips enveloped Tinjau’s swollen glans. She sucked him and craved him tenderly, seeking something from him that he simply didn’t possess.
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Suddenly, Tinjau’s member was shrank.
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Siupui lifted her head, noticing Tinjau’s surprised expression. Following his gaze, she suddenly discovered that another woman had entered the room quietly.
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The girl wore a fitted cotton tank top and ultra-short shorts, without any makeup, looking very much like a high school girl.
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Her face looked somewhat familiar to Siupui.
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(She was the receptionist from the hotel.) Siupui think.
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The girl snapped back to reality, apologizing in serviceable English and then left the room politely. She even locked the door for them.
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Siupui didn’t realized that the girl and Tinjau had actually made plans earlier. After smiling sarcastically, she lowered her head and wanted to continue, but Tinjau held her shoulders and held her in his arms.
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This hug is heartwarming and heartbreaking.
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Tinjau whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry, I’m not that person.”
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Tinjau knew that this time Siupui’s tears wouldn’t stop in a short time. He held this lonely body tightly, gently stroking her long hair, and spend the long night sleepless.
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