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... ed her last strength and shifted the assassin’s corpse to check on Ning Yi; before she confirmed Ning Yi’s death, she refused to waste time crying.
If he was dead, she had no time to waste. Him, Chunyu, and the many hundreds of dead Chang Ying Guards were waiting — she had too many things she needed to do.
As she was reaching out to touch him, a hoarse voice lazily spoke: “How long are you going to wait until you come touch me?”
Feng Zhiwei’s hand froze in midair, and when s ...
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