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... e temple, under White Snake Sage’s seat, a young man sat cross-legged, as still as water.
He was bare-chested, his expression neither happy nor sad, like a meditating old monk. His pale skin was slightly thin, and his black hair fell naturally, swaying slightly with the cyan-blue magatama earrings.
His breathing was long and natural, as if he had just closed his eyes, or had been sitting there for a long time.
Suddenly, White Snake Sage on the seat turned his gaze, starin ...
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