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冬日的清晨,寒风呼啸着吹个不停,清冷的街道上空无一人。一个瘦高的身影晃过街角,步履蹒跚地迎着刺骨的冷风前行。
Winter morning, the whistling blowing a non-stop, over the cold streets no one. A tall figure across the corner, hobbled against the biting cold wind forward.