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... e, someone just charged into the carriage!"
The voice from outside furrowed Murong Jiu’s brows, yet she found the wails eerily familiar.
Lying in front of the carriage was a disheveled old man, clothed in garments that seemed unwashed for ages, stiff as if frozen in snow for many days. The person rolled in agony, crying out in pain, yet there wasn’t a single drop of blood on the ground.
The coachman also said, "Prince, I didn’t touch her. I stopped in time before she rush ...
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