Late at night.

Shang Lu sat in the courtyard, his left hand supporting his forehead, and his right hand twisting the green leaves at will.

The pot of epiphany on the table has been carefully maintained by him for five years, and he has never seen it bloom so far.

Shang Lu closed his eyes and groaned slightly.

...

Chapter 0771 of "Deadly Sanskrit" chatted about loneliness is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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