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... she soon entered within, meeting a woman.
The woman’s figure was graceful, and she sat sideways on a wooden chair, like a noble and lazy cat. Her ink-black hair cascaded down to her waist, her eyes as cold and clear as a mountain spring, eyebrows like verdant strokes, exuding an aura of ethereal haughtiness all her own.
Her vermilion lips were naturally red, and she wore a smile that was not quite a smile, her eyes seemingly fixed nowhere in particular, as if she were looking at ...
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