The sky is blue, like a crystal that is not stained with a trace of impurities, translucent and crystalline. The breeze is gentle and the chill is fierce, but there is a fresh smell of the soil, which contains infinite vitality.

The northern region is monotonous and boring, lacking life qi, the land is red, hundreds of thousands of miles without people, desolate and bleak, and there is no trace of birds. Now, it has entered the harsh winter season, millions of miles of snow drifting, and the land is covered in silver, and it is white.

At this time, a spatial passage opens,

Chapter 141 of "Covering the Sky: I Am the White Emperor", but the events of the year, the battlefield of the ancient relics (ask for subscription) are in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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