The storyteller who shook his head slightly, his eyes were drunk and hazy, and he was cleaned up when he fell asleep last night when he wrote and scolded people yesterday.

At the second hour, the lungs and stomach were painful, and it was difficult to fall asleep, and it was not until after two o'clock that it improved.

The storyteller who had a score in his heart originally planned to buy some white rice to save him, but he ended up buying seven taels of wine, and the man who drank slightly worse drank three doses of wine and slept all afternoon, and when he woke up, he found that the book had not yet been told.

A little more off-topic.

In the year of Kwai Mao, the change of air was a little chaotic, and I knew early that I would have to run around again after the fifteenth day of the first month, and I couldn't help but sigh.

"The noble post horses are promoted more, and the poor post horses are more rushed."

There should be no change in February......

"There is a Mountain" Chapter 305 Wine is not high or low is also in the hand, please wait a moment,

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