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The cold rain pattered incessantly, washing over everything between heaven and earth.
Inside the tent atop Pingyang Ridge, when Li Muyang finally held his beauty in his embrace.
Below Pingyang Ridge, the military formation of the Blood Lotus Sect was brimming with murderous intent.
The huge and burly demon beasts sneezed restlessly in the rain, loathing the cold water.
In the tent with its curtains wide open under the curtain of rain, Shen Yan, who sat beside the charcoal fire wrapped in a thick fur cloak, let out a gentle breath of cold air.
Her solid attire was quite at odds with everyone else in the tent.
Bare-chested, Xie Shanhai, the helmsman of Qingfeng Hall, sat at the entrance of the tent, wiping the blade in his hands while letting the icy droplets from outside fall on his robust abdominal muscles.
Inside the large tent, a messenger who had braved the heavy rain to come was reporting the latest intelligence to Shen Yan.