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... an Ancient Street.
The riverbank in the deep of night had long lost the bustle of daytime.
The dim streetlights stretched the shadows of the willows long onto the silent stone-paved road, and the river flowed silently, reflecting distant neon lights from tall buildings and a few scattered stars.
Hong Qitian still sat on his worn-out small stool.
His murky old eyes were half-closed, with the fishing rod slanting on the stand, as if it merged with the night, becomin ...
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