The night was dark, and the mist drifted around the river, like a dream.

The white clothes came in this way, the white clothes were better than the snow, and the corners of the clothes were carried out by the wind in a fluttering arc, swinging slowly.

He is like an immortal in the sky, and under the white wrapping, he is a fairy wind bone.

Come...

Chapter 137 of "The First Concubine" The Buddha Says the Front. 2 is in the hand, please wait a while,

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