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... red in the cool pavilion before Thousand Feet Rock, Bian Qiao sat alone on the stone bench in the center.
He appeared to be in his early forties, dressed in luxurious clothing, wearing a Nine Yang Cloth on his head, and thick-soled high boots on his feet. His face was fair, round, and plump, and he was leisurely sipping from a Purple Mud Tea Pot, looking more like a wealthy gentleman than a servant.
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In front of Thousand Feet ...
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