When Song Qingan walked out of the room, the smile on his face also dissipated.

She lowered her eyebrows and followed behind the factory guard, her face gloomy.

The corridor of the Prison Division was long, dark, and damp with blood. From time to time, there were people moaning in pain in the cells on both sides, but Song Qing'an walked with an unchanged face, as if he ignored everything.

It's not often that she dresses like this here, and some of the people who still have the energy to keep it open the cell door, and their eyes are dirty

Chapter 177 of "The Sparrow in the Palm of the Eunuch" Ping An is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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