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... ge. The painting floated in the air.


The young Daoist boy did not dare to watch the bitter fighting taking place around him. He used his hands to cover his face, the occasional peek scaring him so badly that his entire body trembled.


The carriage curtain had already been raised. Shang Xingzhou sat on the edge, his feet on the ground.


If Chen Changsheng were here, he would discover that Shang Xingzhou was even older than he had been at Luoyang, his hair having gone c ...

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