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... e, Zhongnan Mountain.
Chongyang Palace.
The bright moon hung in the sky, its light washing the heavens pale and empty. Before an ancient, dignified palace and temple, an elder, nearing the end of his days, sat cross-legged by the doorway. Under his shriveled skin, not a trace of blood remained, like a river in its last ebb, ready to vanish in an instant.
Yet at this moment, he raised his head to gaze at the sky, looking toward the distant north. In his previously dim eyes ...
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