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... academy.
Three people were already waiting there.
Among them was Cheng Qingman.
“Cheng Qingman, this person you found isn’t reliable. We’re all here, but he still hasn’t arrived.”
“A disciple from the outer palace, slower than us.”
One of them said.
He was wearing a grey robe, carrying a long sword on his back, with a clear expression of displeasure on his face.
“It’s not even fully light yet, why are you in such a hurry? He’s not late.”
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