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... o one knew what Yang Zhen had done.
Everyone only felt a gust of wind suddenly waft from Yang Zhen, and then they knew nothing else.
Like a breeze of spring air, everyone even felt somewhat comfortable, but Yuan Hao’s face turned pale as if covered with a layer of flour, and he even spat out a mouthful of blood. Can’t this man be touched by the wind?
Is there also a person who can’t be touched by the wind?
As they watched Yang Zhen step by step walking past Yuan H ...
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