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... aoist’s limit, it was Zhen Ruan’s limit.
At this moment, Zhen Ruan’s skin was pink, and she was fast asleep on the brocaded couch, like a lump of soft mud.
Yi Chen pushed open the door, came to a quiet room, sat down cross-legged, took out the halberd, and laid it across his legs.
Since the last time he had killed the Wusheng Sword Mother and its associative ghost spirit, the Halberd had devoured the Fengxie Sword without leaving anything behind, not a single bit wasted. ...
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