She paced to the window and looked out the window, "Drunk and looking at the sword, dreaming of blowing the horn and the battalion." Eight hundred miles of fire, fifty strings turned over the outside sound, and the battlefield was an autumn soldier. The horse-made Lu was fast, and the bow was like a thunderbolt. But the king of the world, won the name before and after his death. Poor white happens! ”。

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Chapter 127 of "Don't Break into the Rivers and Lakes" Listening to Xuelou is hitting in his hand, please wait a moment,

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