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Jiang Tang's starry eyes stared at Su Chang'an, who he had not seen for over a month. Su Chang'an still wore robes of dark purple, his handsome and gentle face no longer sickly, and from him, Jiang Tang could feel a profound sense of affection.
"Lord Qianchen, at that time I thought I had died, but unexpectedly, my pet saved me."
"Where have you been all this time? We've searched so hard for you." Su Chang'an faced Jiang Tang, whose cultivation was higher than his own, not with envy, but with the desire to become stronger.
"I..." Jiang Tang didn't know how to explain; he could neither deceive his good friend nor tell the truth.
"Jiang Tang, you're not dead?" Yan Weiwei walked in and saw the familiar yet strange Jiang Tang, his face so pale and now taller than before, his cultivation seemingly higher than hers. She couldn't believe that in just one month, a person could improve and change so rapidly.