In July of the following year, a large ship set sail from the South China Sea coast under the setting sun.
Lu Xiaofeng stood at the bow, gazing at the boundless sea, feeling uneasy.
Ximen Chuxue wiped his sword without saying a word.
The old fox only sent two people to the nameless island that year. He docked there several times but didn't pick anyone up. It seemed that there was no one on the island, so he no longer paid attention to it.
Is there really no one left?
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