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The rising sun in the east arrived and shone on the mountain behind the hut. The slightly warm light carried no trace of joy as it gradually enveloped the mountain’s summit. The dozen disciples and the master of the Sword Hut all stood in the warm light with their heads raised. They looked just like an oil painting.


At the foot of the mountain, three generations of Sword Hut disciples, sword boys, servants that had served Sigu Jian for countless years, an ...

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