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... lowly, blinking against the heavy shadow that curled across his skin like a second flesh. His chest burned where Adam’s blow had landed, but there was no pain now. Only cold. Cold that seeped into his bones and out the other side, as though he was standing half in reality, half in something older.

He pushed himself to his feet.

The ground beneath him wasn’t stone or earth. It was... something between blood and shadow, shifting under his boots like liquid glass. The air was thick, ...

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That day, Shi Jin almost spat blood and dropped the book into a shredder. The next day, he died in a car accident. Somehow, when he came to, he had transmigrated into a teenager, a youth also called Shi Jin.

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An Immortal does not differentiate between good and evil, nor do they care about the distinction between black and white. They do not ask what is right or wrong, and consider all living things as dogs. In spite of everything, Immortals pursue the Dao with bitter resolve.

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