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Neither the abrasions on his face, nor the circle of gauze around his head could detract from his handsome beauty. From the curve of his nose to his tightly closed lips, all his features carried an air of aloof restraint. He looked very much like what anyone would expect from one of Xuandu Mountain’s Daoist practitioners—someone far removed from the common people.
Thousand Autumns: Qian Qiu (Novel) Vol. 1
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