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Each day began and ended with this exchange of simple greetings, marking the passage of time in an unassuming rhythm.
Days turned into months, and months into years.
In the moment, time felt sluggish, but in hindsight, it moved faster than a fleeting shadow.
The witch grew up. Xu Xi grew old.
At fifty-two years of age, Xu Xi was not yet at the end of his life, but he could already feel the slow decay deep within his body.
“Fortunately, there’s still ...
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