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... m, Wang Chen sat cross-legged.
A whole day had passed since he had killed a direct descendant of the Purple Mansion, and the immense pressure of potentially being on the run at any moment not only had not destroyed Wang Chen’s will, but instead made his tender Dao heart become more solid.
He hid in an underground secret chamber, not idly waiting for fate’s judgment.
But instead strived every second to improve himself.
At this moment, Wang Chen was revisiting yeste ...
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