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... he Imperial Clan Court descended into an eerie silence.
Zhao Xi stood in front of the redwood veneer carved with ancient designs, leisurely putting away the ink-dried paintings.
On the adjacent table screen, there was a sword stand holding Zhao Xi’s protective sword, the Taixu Sword.
Except for the faint friction sound of him storing the paintings, there was no other noise, and time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Closing the painting cabinet door, Zhao Xi’s righ ...
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