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... thout trace of spring or autumn, time flows without heed to passing seasons, unknowing how many cycles have come and gone!"
Liang Hui sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his body covered in a layer of dust that made him appear hazy and gray.
Only his eyes were gentle and warm, soothing to the soul like the morning sun in winter, devoid of their former explosiveness.
The Human Emperor Banner emitting a faint glow, floated before him, within which the illusion of East ...
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