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"It seems I really have crossed over—"
In the luxuriously decorated carriage, Zong Shou looked expressionlessly at a circular mirror before him.
The reflection in the mirror clearly showed a youth who was not yet of age. Around thirteen, with pale complexion, but those features were rarely handsome, exquisitely peerless.
A pair of narrow phoenix eyes shone with a brilliant light. However, at this moment, they were filled with bitterness and helplessness.
He remembered that not long ago, he still had an utterly ordinary face that would never stand out in a crowd.
