PREVIEW
... hite robes and ink-black hair leaned dejectedly against the well, lost in thought as Qiann Yan observed, propping up a giant sword. Struggle, anger, sadness, pain, disappointment, and despair were evident between her brows.
Not knowing what she was thinking, the white-robed woman cried silently. Tears flowed like a small stream, unstoppable, dripping and dropping into the soil, soaking it.
After a long while, the woman in white suddenly stood and bowed to Qiann Yan: "Greetings, s ...
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