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... still unable clear up her thoughts—even her rushing water immortal spirit could not wash the haze that clouded her mind. After twenty days, the scene in front of her didn't seem to have changed. On the field, Wang Lu's body had turned into a phantom as he incessantly wrote and wrote. Hundreds of thousands of manuscripts had been written and covered the lawn neatly like a vast expanse of white, like a winter snowfield. On the rostrum, the Supremes of the Union of Ten Thousand Immortals were still ...
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