PREVIEW
... This person was none other than Zhang Han.
Zhang Han wore a Confucian robe, his black hair held up by a wooden hairpin, his features clear and handsome, and his face habitually carried a smile that made one feel as if bathed in a spring breeze, exuding the aura of a scholar from head to toe.
He stood outside the mountain gate, quietly waiting.
But his peripheral vision occasionally glanced inside the mountain gate.
As if waiting for something.
After a whil ...
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