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... , within a certain grove of trees, inside a thatched shack…
Nan Batian held a cornbread in his hand, using two tree branches to scoop wild vegetables stewing in a medicinal cauldron, disheveled and dirty, appearing utterly miserable.
Seven days, a full seven days—none of you would know what he had been through these past seven days.
He was even worse off than a beggar, with his injuries not yet healed, and he didn’t dare wander far from the shack, only nibbling on hard co ...
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