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... argue back or fight, truly at his wit’s end, with a stifling frustration that he couldn’t vent.
Hou Niao paid him no attention, having said what needed to be said, and was unable to wake someone feigning sleep; his gaze shifted beyond Lan Zaitian, toward the back of the Qinglong Festival Hall,
"Elder sirs, I wonder whether the junior has made himself heard?"
The back of the hall fell silent for a long while before three elderly Daoists each with long beards covering thei ...
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