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Chapter 92
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... was opened, and the green shade has covered his blood, like a short-lived paradise.
Put a hand on his forehead.
Cheng Qian pulled the hand down and opened his eyes to see that he was lying on Master's lap.
Yan Zhengming's palm has several new broken wounds. Look closely, and the cocoons left by the long-term grip of the sword are like old wind and frost. Now there is only a seemingly smooth back of the hand, still Pretend to be at ease.
Yan Zhengming allowed him to ho ...
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