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... ed the scent of blood, and it came from Yuan Si.
His hand was dripping blood downwards, a hideous wound wrapping around his wrist like a red thread.
The white shirt was soaked in blood, appearing in a faint red hue, clinging tightly to his body, faintly revealing the contours of flesh and bone beneath.
Water droplets kept falling from his hair, trailing down the curve of his neck, gathering at his collarbone, forming a pool of crimson.
All of this proved that just ...
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