The northwest in early autumn is a little cold in the morning and evening.

Zong Sheng shrank on the edge of the small stove to roast the fire, boiling porridge by the way.

He dozed with his head down, and when he woke up later, he lifted the lid of the pot and stirred the porridge with a spoon.

The door was pushed open, and a gust of cold wind blew in, and Zong Sheng couldn't help but shiver.

It was Zhi Jimin who came in.

He closed the door with his backhand, and then squatted on the edge of the small stove, "This year's weather is evil! It's only early autumn, and it's so cold in the morning, which doesn't bode well. ”

Zong Sheng nodded, sniffed; "So-and-so feels the same way, so I drink porridge in the morning and don't eat flatbread."

Zhe Jimin sniffed it, then rubbed his hands and said, "A bowl is also here." ”

"Your family has a great cause......

"Great Song Haoerlang" 739: The trap of the Tangut people is being hit by hand, please wait a moment,

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