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After squeezing nearly half of the fruit, Mu Wanwan stopped. Searching through the original body’s memory, she forced out a bit of weak wood-based spiritual power from her dantian, and poured it into the other half of the somewhat shrivelled fruit. When she saw the peel that she had carefully cut away grow back, she let out a sigh of relief.
They were now dirt-poor. Even Baizhen fruit that cost only five low-grade spirit stones apiece, something that the tyrant would have never deig ...
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