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Li Changqing could understand Li Hengsheng’s feelings.
After all, he was just a teenager.
His life was as blank as a sheet of paper, barely touched by the pen of experience.
During the Ghostly Realm trial, Li Hengsheng carried Lu Shiran, a spear on his back, through countless Ghost Race, bloodied yet tearless.
But now his son was sobbing.
Although they say men don’t cry easily, it’s only when they haven’t reached the point of heartbreak.
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