The rain has been falling for seven days and is still continuous, perhaps because it has been on the road, that one has stopped, and this one has picked up stubble, which always makes people feel that this gloomy day is endless.

Sullen ground press. In my heart, I was shaking when I walked, as if I couldn't bear the weight.

Bad luck.

Sure enough, everything is unlucky.

The drizzle turned abruptly on the mountain road, pouring down the head, making people instantly become a soup chicken.

Gu Hanyi dismounted in front of the deserted temple, tied the reins and broke into the wooden door, and after a "bang", the wooden door shook with two "squeaks", and then smashed to the ground with an unsupportable "bang" and splashed several splashes.

The cold wind hula rolls into the tearing open cobwebs like a broken bamboo, wearing

Chapter 43 of "The History of Thorns is Not Simple" is in the middle of the hand, please wait a while,

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