After walking out of Shen Xuan's tent, Meng Twelve Lang's dizzy head finally became clearer when the night wind blew it.
He raised his arm and smelled it, smelling of medicinal fragrance.
The injury seemed to still have a slightly cool touch from the fingers, and the base of the ears felt inexplicably warm.
As you get younger, your skin becomes thinner?
Looking closer, Shen Xuan looks really good. There was no smell of incense on his body, only a breath of cold wind from Shuobei, as clear as snow.
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