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Chapter 85 - 83: Wind Rises by the Lake
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... , was full of fluffy willow catkins blowing in the air.
Previously confident in his robust health, Zhao Changhe, who thought nothing of getting soaked, finally began to agree with Cui Yuanyang’s cursing of the rotten weather.
Rain during Qingming, the poets may leisurely recount their tales, but as a traveler on the road, you can only curse your bad luck. Especially when you’re covering a thousand miles—a far cry from a quick visit to the neighboring village.
Such was the ...
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