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... gs.
He found himself no longer on the boat, nor in bed.
Instead, he was standing behind a young boy, watching him write.
This boy seemed oblivious to his presence.
Holding a brush, he was intently writing calligraphy at the desk.
"Where am I?" Yang Yan thought.
He looked around again and checked his own body.
His clothes were intact, his hands were unharmed.
"Has the Earth Tribulation ended?"
There was no mud, and he felt no ...
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