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... dence whatsoever.

Muniang did not make it difficult for him, and simply laughed without saying much more.

The servant led them around the Nine-Turn Corridor to a lakeside, where, in a small pavilion at the center of the lake, a certain prodigal son was comfortably napping in a lounge chair.

The servant hurried over and whispered in his ear, “Sir, the guests have arrived.”

Wu Haoli opened his bleary eyes and lethargically sat up, “Let them in,” he said.

The ...

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