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After locking up the Shadow Puppet Pavilion, Song Yan walked on the mountain path of Paperman Peak.
The biting wind blew eerily cold, the shadows of the mountains swiftly slanted with the setting sun in the west, large patches of shadows rushing forward with the piercing air, while on withered branches, carrion vultures and crows lingered, making strange calls.
Yuzhuang Xiao Niangzi followed behind Song Yan with her arms hanging down, carrying a small bag of fragrant w ...
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