Traps
The man was far away from her, and he was so vague that he couldn’t see his face, but Brooke was very familiar with the sudden familiarity.
Master?
The screaming man was as thin as a bamboo pole, his clothes were ragged, his body was wounded, and blood kept flowing out.
He was chased by four or five people behind him, fresh clothes and angry horses, the long whip in his hand with a hot light, pumped on him one by one.
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