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... a golden-banner sweeping through, iron cavalry trampling over the golden wheat fields, a few thatched cottages burning in the distant village, black smoke rising straight into the sky.
The young Xin Qiji hid among the crowd, clenching his fists as he looked at the rampant cavalry in the distance.
The voices of adults discussing around him reached his ears.
They were talking about the 'court's southward migration,' saying that the north had already become the territory of ...
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