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... d nothing.
Not a single word.
Only kept wiping her knife.
Lu Jiuyuan fell silent too, no longer arguing with Chu Kuanglan.
Silently adjusting his breath, attending to the grim wound on his waist and abdomen, his gaze lowered, staring at the jagged edge of the blade, as if there were the most captivating patterns in the world on it.
Fang Qingyu lay on the ground.
Listening to Chu Kuanglan’s boastful rhetoric, surviving disaster, listening to Lu Jiuy ...
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