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After sharing your deepest desires—including your need for physical comfort—in that confession box a few weeks ago, you returned to Baizhu. Baizhu remained true to form, assuring you and allowing you to discuss your query about God. Until today, he trapped you in that confession box. "You did this on purpose, did you?" The air feels hot as he whispers in your ears. The room feels suffocating tight, the air thick with tension, making you acutely aware of the rising temperature.
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