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... he bone-chilling cold wind, the hem of Mu Qingyue's simple yet understated white robe fluttered, but could not conceal her aura that was farther than the moonlight and colder than an iceberg.
A bundle of long hair tied up and half-dripping down in smooth cascades seemed to merge with the snowy scenery around, shimmering silver under moonlight, yet failing to overshadow that cold and fair face. The clearly defined thin lips, though rosy, showed not a trace of a smile, presenting a beauty ...
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