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... s narrow.
Nine turns and eighteen bends, everywhere shrouded in bloody mist.
The ghosts clung to blood and bones, rampant and unruly, flying and colliding wildly; even if the disciples of South Bamboo Peak moved with the ghost cultivators, many wild beasts in the mountains couldn’t escape.
Under the trees, an old wolf rolled in pain; on the branches, a squirrel’s eyes glowed red; in the cave, a rabbit bared its fangs...
As the bloody mist passed, unless resisted w ...
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