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... died up the chessboard.
As the rain fell, someone came over with an umbrella. Under the umbrella was the familiar young Taoist, Zhui Yue, though his eyes now carried a sense of indifference and vastness. He was Zhui Yue, yet he was no longer Zhui Yue.
Zu Wenyuan looked up, seemingly unsurprised: "Senior, you have arrived."
"Yes."
Zhui Yue nodded slightly and stepped forward, sitting opposite Zu Wenyuan, his demeanor calm and composed, "It’s raining."
Zu We ...
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