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... r countless years suddenly receded like the tide.
The mist dissipated, revealing the mottled, neither-gold-nor-iron-nor-copper-nor-wood surface of the bridge.
The Yellow Springs flowed beneath the bridge.
A human figure stood on the bridge.
The figure was thin and ethereal, like a fragment of an incomplete soul, holding an eight-foot sword, with eyes wide in anger:
"Li Yuanji! My Xuanwu Gate in the mortal realm could kill your living body; now in this Unde ...
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