On the roof of the hotel, in the cinnabar array, Qin Qing sat cross-legged, his face was like a bodhisattva, with compassion, but there was a peach wood sword in front of him.

She has never been a benevolent person, and it is her iron and bloody hand to fight and kill with war, and to counter violence with violence.

The breeze was blowing, with a fishy smell, Qin Qing opened her eyes slightly...

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