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... sually spoke.
“What? Are you the bald donkey arranged by the Buddhist Sect to go West for scriptures?”
The monkey mumbled as he gnawed on the drumstick.
He released a powerful force, allowing himself to flip over like a salted fish, lying face up, looking at the Drinking and Eating Monk.
“Amitabha, Little Kongkong, how are you speaking? Can this humble monk be compared to a bald donkey? You better reorganize your words, or else… hehe.”
Chen Sanzang sneered ...
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