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... eone appeared to be sleeping beneath the covers, their head covered. He leered as he bent over, lifting the blanket, only for his complexion to change on the spot.
There was no one in the bed at all—only several stacked pillows arranged to look like a person.
At that moment, the cold edge of a dagger pressed against his throat, and the man was terrified, his body instantly turning to stone.
Zhuo Ma, dagger in hand, demanded coldly, "Who sent you here, speak!"
The ...
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