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Luo Chen, with his head bowed, was holding a Golden Bamboo Pen, slowly writing something on rice paper.
Yet, it wasn’t the usual act of copying calligraphy or painting for practice; it was an extremely important letter he was writing.
Ever since his transmigration, with all the inheritances of his predecessor, he naturally became proficient in the written and spoken language of this world.
But that was just about knowing it.
When it came to writing, he wa ...
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