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... ifeng sat against the wall on the floor, absently caressing the hidden-edge knife sheath in his hand, his expression thoughtful.
The Chasing Moon Dog sat next to him, its tail wagging slightly, as it cocked its head, looking at its temporary master.
Its horrific wounds had healed, but the fur hadn’t grown back, leaving it somewhat patchy and bald.
As for Shao Zifeng, he hadn’t sustained any injuries; even the scratches on the back of his hand from earlier on the rooftop h ...
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