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... ang’sheng’s gaze was fixed on Yu Wenjing—there was no way he’d go chasing after him now.
"Old bastard, if you dare harm Wenjing in the slightest, I swear I’ll wipe your Beimu Immortal Race off the face of the earth!"
Lin Chang’sheng narrowed his eyes, every word ringing with conviction.
If he hadn’t already put the Protective Soft Armor Magical Artifact on Yu Wenjing, she’d probably have been killed by Zhao Fuhu’s strike just now.
But even so, her situation was an ...
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