Farewell to the snow hall, a gentleman with a pot of ice heart, a hundred flavors of life, in the west.

A sip of the throat, open streams, a bright moon, a small amount of alcohol, such as psyllium, fruit fields to the east, sour and familiar.

The snow in front of the house, sweeping the floor for three feet, accumulating and sinking, two or three pieces of clothing, through the cold.

The taste buds on the tip of the tongue are frozen with snow, and the iceberg lotus is pure, chew it slowly and stay in the old comfort.

Zhonglibi washes and sandwiches the vegetables, and the minced meat is strong, like a plum blossom red wall, and apricots come out.

"Immortality: Slowly Becoming an Immortal" Chapter 101 The waves of water are hitting in the hand, please wait for a while,

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