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... ps between the branches of the trees, illuminating the ground.


Zhang Dashan stood atop the lookout post surrounded by fences made of thorn bushes and mud walls. The fences stretched across the entire parameter of the city—forming the village’s basic line of defence. He wore nothing but a thin singlet, with a shortbow slung across his back.


Although spring had just begun, the cold still pierced his bones. Zhang Dashan looked up to the sky and muttered disappointe ...

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