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Yan Bingyun looked across the faux mountain at Fan Xian behind the moss- and snow-covered door. There was no expression on his face. No one knew what he was thinking. After a moment of silence, he coldly said, “You know too much. Don’t forget, I’ve been by your side for many years. I know at least a little about the matters of the palace treasury. During these years, you’ve been turning your focus toward Northern Qi. Fan Sizhe is still in Shangjing. If you say that you’ve never ...

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