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This entirely snow-white qionglou flying boat, wherever it passed, day or night, spring or autumn, it always snowed. The pure white snow fluttered down, not melting upon contact with water, not thickening with the wind or dissolving in fire—quite mystical.
On the deck.
A beautiful young woman dressed in a white gown, with hair like a waterfall and delicate features like those of a painted lady, stared blankly ahead: "Southern State, I have returned! Xiao Yi, how have you bee ...
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