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... Washing Pond, dozens of monks formed a circle. Wooden fish were struck continuously, accompanying the recitation of scriptures. In these three days, they had not touched a drop of water or a grain of rice. This was all for an ethereal dream—a dream the white-eyebrowed elder monk had seventy years ago!
Throughout these three days, since stripping off his clothes and jumping into the Elephant Washing Pond, Qin Fan had seemed to be asleep, not opening his eyes even once. Lying peacefully in ...
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