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... he tokens of House of Heavenly Fiends were – like a patch of delicately crafted cloud. From the dirt accumulated over the token, it was clear it’d been here for a while. He trembled and sweat in debilitating dread, collapsing to the stone stairs like all strength had drained out of his body.


He debated over if he should give the token another look. Maybe he’d misjudged. Maybe it wasn’t Jun Huang’s.


The mistress hadn’t gone to bed yet ...

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