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... ngs are but fish and meat upon it—men and women, young and old, all caught within.
Amid the endless falling snow, a young man holding six jars of wine looked up, gazing at the snowflakes that never seemed to stop. Watching, watching, each petal of snow seemed to him like the willow catkins of spring.
Flying snow, willow catkins.
A flash of spiritual light streaked across his mind, and that night when Bai Yi, the Flower-Picking Thief, used his exquisite lightweight skill, ...
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