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Gary Smith glanced at the Peach Blossom Forest next to him, where tall peach trees stretched out, with blooming peach blossoms that looked like clouds of rouge. The pink mist swirled, the temperature was agreeable, there were no flies or bugs, and the air was not dry.
The peach trees, constantly rubbed by the Peach Pigs, were smooth to the touch and wouldn’t cause any abrasions, making it an ideal place for guerrilla warfare along its shaded paths.
Especi ...
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