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The traps Wei-ah was placing weren’t as elegant as Chen Mu’s. He was casually splitting apart a heavy pomelo-wood chair by hand.
Off to the side, Lu Xiaoru’s heart was bleeding since that chair sold on the market for 50,000 Oudi.
Of course, Wei-ah didn’t know anything about its value. Even if he had, that wouldn’t have changed his behavior at all. He took the top of the longest piece of the dense pomelo-wood and nail ...
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