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At the end of June in the ninth year of Wude in the Tang Dynasty, Chang'an City. The unbearable heat was finally replaced by a cool breeze in the evening. The young Changsun Chong, with a dull look on his face, looked like a puppet. He let his young maid hold his hand, walked out of the room step by step, and sat down on the stone bench under the tree in the yard.

"Can you shut your mouth?" Uncle Jiu really had a headache. Song Yingjun talked too much, and his head was buzzing!