The little red umbrella in the spirit bag, for the first time, felt the owner's mood, not sad, nor sad, but the powerlessness in the face of the sunrise and sunset, the most accustomed law.

It's the kind of thing, he knows where he came from and where he's going, and he knows that his current direction is right, right, and must be done, but in the bottom of his heart, there is such a villain, trying his best to shout.

He noticed the little white flower that was destined to be trampled on the road he was taking.

That powerlessness that even if he knew, he couldn't change his fate.

"Master, everything has not yet reached the last moment, and the conclusion has not yet been reached, maybe, maybe the heavens and people have finally awakened......

Chapter 138 of "Dressed as a Waste Material Painter, Crazy Drop the Vest on the Road to Cultivating Immortals": Mother! Hug! I am hitting it in my hand, please wait a moment,

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