The cold water of the lake continued to tremble with the cold wind, like a ghost crying wolf, and even the fish in the lake hid and did not dare to surface.

At this time, it was already dark, and the moonlight as white as frost shone on the painting boat on the lake, but there stood a cold and arrogant person.

A man in a coarse cloth shirt stood beside him, and his hands and feet quickly opened the sack under his feet.

Still......

"Tyrant, She Was Naturally Charming" Chapter 67 I am you is hitting the hand, please wait a moment,

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