The white wall that has just been painted not long ago still has a faint smell of paint that has not dissipated, and the two pairs of shoes at the door are neatly placed in front of the shoe cabinet, the black one is slightly larger, and the white one shines faintly under the white halo of the white frosted lampshade in the living room.

The white flesh in the living room was the same as the imaginary little creature, whether it was the snow-white skin that had been praised in life, the useless pieces of flesh that had been separated in the blood that flowed down, or the dilated pupils, which were kissed one by one with their mouthparts reverently in the eyes of the flies.

The kiss was suddenly interrupted when it landed on the black fan, and the long, black eyelashes trembled, revealing a semicircular piece of black pearl like opening a pearl shell.

Chapter 66 Do You Touch the Porcelain is hitting in your hand, please wait a while,

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