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He himself felt as if a month had passed.
Although the butterfly on the chest no longer fluttered its wings, Chen Qing's blood was still flowing.
It just seemed relatively quiet, just maintaining Chen Qing's basic life consumption.
He seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.
Ying Wugang and Zuo Chuan, one stood on the edge of the cliff above Chen Qing's head, and the other stood at the bottom of the stone wall.
Reaching out his hand to brush ...
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