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... e ’Coachman’ up and down, rolling his eyes speechlessly.
His clothes were a dull gray, and his silky black hair was turned dry, yellow, and frizzy, tied up with cheap cloth strips.
He wore a human skin mask on his face, presenting an extremely ordinary, even somewhat ugly appearance.
Except for those eyes that were still as cold as snow, like stars, there was not a trace of familiarity to be found.
Yun Wanyao’s mouth hung open wide, as if it could fit an egg.
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