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... r camp like a cold silver coin lost in the sea of clouds.
Most cultivators were already asleep or deep in meditation, recovering their strength after the chaos of the duel. But somewhere near the edge of the war camp, lit by only a few flickering spiritual lanterns, two figures stood beneath a plum blossom tree—one, cloaked in mystery and poise; the other, draped in a half-open robe, still nursing the bruises of affection.
Wang Li rubbed his forehead for the hundredth time that d ...
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