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In the quaint room, Nian sat up from his bed, muttering to himself. He was about fifteen years old, with a handsome face, but his clear eyes were covered with bandages, as if they were injured.,The door was pushed open, and a young boy of about fourteen ran in, looking rather disheveled with messy hair, obscuring his features.,Lin Ling shouted, in his memory, Youyou was another disciple of his master. In the past, Youyou had always been kind to him.。

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