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... urned from thousands of miles away, his face became less and less beautiful. When he smiled, there was still the fragrance of plum blossoms.
An Le held the oil-paper umbrella and returned to the courtyard, his heart calm.
Although he had defeated the former 18th place of the Little Sacred Ranking, Wang Qinhe, in a crushing manner, he did not feel proud.
The spring rain pattered down in the alley and echoed in the courtyard. It was quite crisp and sobering.
With a ...
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