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"It seems I've really transmigrated—"
Within the luxuriously decorated carriage, Zong Shou stared expressionlessly at the round mirror before him.
The reflection showed a young boy, not yet of age—about thirteen with a pale complexion. However, his facial features were exceptionally handsome and exquisitely refined.
A pair of narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes sparkled with light, yet at this moment, they also carried a hint of bitterness and helplessness.
