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The storyteller slowly climbed up from the corner and stretched out his hand, the black mist formed a net, covering Qian Moxing's heart, but after a while, the wound healed.
Qian Moxing smiled enchantingly and affectionately: "Thank you brother Qingzhi."
Mu Qingzhi picked up the thing, and pinched it gently with her fingers on the hideous head. He didn't have the slightest fear on his face, just a weird smile, his face wrinkled: "Oh, even though I'm injured, I've achieved ...
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