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An ancient forest, veiled in misty light, inside a cave, Song Yan sensed the pitch-black roots climbing into his palm, their chilly touch radiating unrestrained goodwill.
’Is this innate intelligence?’
Song Yan squinted slightly, then extended his fingers to touch the roots, gently stroking them, saying, "I’m fine."
The roots danced happily, but then, like lightning, they retreated into the soil, followed by a tiny tip peeking out, as if observing the outside ...
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