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... s, even more so than when he met Lord Yong Xin the night before.
His hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the beads of sweat spilling from his forehead continually dripped down, mingling with the fresh blood that had welled up from his finger pricked by the clock hand earlier, making him look particularly wretched.
Terrell could no longer hear anything beyond the “thumping” of his own heartbeat, not even the wound on his finger that kept seeping blood felt any pain—fear was the onl ...
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