"Ouch,......"

Feng Xinglie was wearing armor at this time, and the angle of the spirit feather was impartial, and his forehead just hit his hard armor.

This bump, with a bang, is a solid pain.

She felt like she was hitting a wall.

"Ah......" Maybe she was stunned, she didn't think about getting up at all, but fell into his arms, holding her head and screaming.

This painting

Chapter 88 of "His Little Ancestor Ren Meilu Ziye": A little bit of a bad conscience is hitting in the hand, please wait a moment,

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