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... said.
"What? So you’re the bald donkey arranged by the Buddhist Sect for the westward journey to fetch scriptures?"
The monkey, tearing at the chicken leg, mumbled indistinctly.
He burst out with powerful strength, turned over like a salted fish, lay on his back, and looked at the drinking and eating monk.
"Amitabha, Little Kongkong, how can you talk like that? Can a poor monk be the same as a bald donkey? You’d better reorganize your words, otherwise... hehe." ...
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