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... erior, the oil lamp flickered like a sprite, casting alternating shadows and light around.
Strands of blue smoke roamed like a mythical serpent, twisting and coiling in the air, gradually converging into words.
Qin An clasped the scabbard tightly with his five fingers, his gaze like a torch staring into the void.
The smoke patterns went from vague to clear, eventually freezing into form.
[Scholar lv.12 (0/12000): Your reading speed has greatly increased, you have ...
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