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On the Flood Dragon’s back, the Red-Robed Daoist gazed into the sky, the sea breeze flapping his sleeves with a rustling sound.
Under numerous curious, wary, and mostly reverent gazes, his expression remained calm as his form ascended steadily, eventually stepping onto the luxurious flying boat.
His eyes swept past the figures of several young cultivators before ultimately settling on an elderly man with a fully white beard and hair, his face full of wrinkles.
"El ...
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