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"Brothers love the wine, men must pull the knife!"
Yun Yang’s long sighs, a toast to the air, a glass of red wine, falling into the belly. His eyes are cold and deep.
He was wearing a dark purple robes and sat quietly in the chair under the celestial orchid in the courtyard. His sight seemed to fall on the cymbidium that covered half of the yard, but it seemed to penetrate. The space of this world has fallen into another plane.
His facial ...
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