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... and, the ghostly figure drifting, sleeves fluttering unpredictably, resembling a fierce ghost returning from the dead, quite eerie.
Fan Kong halted his steps, the green ox also stopped at once.
His expression slightly tensed, he retracted the previously gentle face that even had a touch of ingratiation, turning into one of gravity, as the wind scraped his white beard, there was a flavor of a Taoist descending the mountain, a monk breaking precepts.
The man's face was sini ...
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