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On this day, Han Zhao stood in the middle of the courtyard to 'raise a sword' as usual.
His eyes were slightly closed, and his energy and spirit were highly concentrated, converging towards the Sword of Rebirth in his hand.
A gust of wind blew past, blowing up a few fallen leaves outside the courtyard, two of which flew to Han Zhao and fell down.
"Zheng!"
At this moment, Han Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, and the Sword of Rebirth at his waist was su ...
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