Kong Yimao raised his eyes and said gloomily: "The Turks have fallen to the Russian fighters, and they are thirty years old." "Yunyun.

Sun Zhi was disgusted with it and said: "The eldest father chatters and occupies the occupation of the third year." ”

Yi Mao is stopped, sighing sadly, tidying up the clothes and fur, near the cooking fire, fake fireflies, and grinding stones.

Outside the cave cheered, and the children returned from hunting.

Wen Pu pressed: Taimeng three years of winter. Turkey shoots Russian fighters, falls on them, and kills them. The tsar was furious. All nations are worried about the nuclear disaster of World War III.

PS: Recently, I made a forum with my friends called "New Classical Chinese - Literary Creation Exchange Platform", and gathered a group of good writers to exchange and learn together. Everyone is welcome to visit and guide. Since the starting point will swallow the URL, so the address will not be placed, and the Baidu name can be found quickly.

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"Thirty years ago today, the Turks shot down a Russian fighter...""Grandpa, you said it eight hundred times!" Wang Damao's memories were interrupted impatiently by his grandson. He let out a long sigh, tightened the skin on his body, moved his body closer to the fire, and continued to polish the stone cluster arrows with the light. At this moment, the cheers of the children were heard from outside the cave, and he knew that the hunting party had returned.