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... movement.

A figure darted onto the stage, landing in a smooth, practiced motion. Xin Long's eyes locked onto the newcomer.

A woman.

She appeared to be around twenty-five, draped in flowing violet robes. Every piece of jewelry adorning her was a shade of purple, carefully matching her attire. Her face, pale as porcelain, held a faint blush along her cheeks — a sharp contrast to the dark kohl outlining her almond-shaped eyes.

And her lips...

Painted a deep s ...

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