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Hovering in midair, Wushuang became somewhat excited. He was not very familiar with the metal puppet that followed Bu Fang, but after they had stayed together for hundreds of years, he already considered it a companion and a friend.


In fact, he knew very well that the metal puppet was not a real puppet. It was sentient. However, the sentience was buried deep in it like a tiny seed, waiting for the water to sprout and bloom into a flower. And now, it was sprouting at last.


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