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... the body moves, the white air condenses, dyed like frost.

There were countless tiny sword beams blooming, but the most beautiful and beautiful flower, along with Zhao Yuji's sword tip, opened on the chest of the man in white.

The white-robed man, as if nothing had happened, said contemptuously, "Even if your flowers bloom like spring, your sword qi is like a tide, and you don't have the blessing of calamity, you're just adobe from a kiln, and it will collapse at the touch of a butt ...

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