At the beginning of the night, the spring sleep returns, the cigarette cooking ash is flooded, and the hot grass clippings and dry wood, the shape of the rope flocculent, blows and flies, and flies out of the air to fill the debris.

The night attacks people's souls, cold and cold, like a long pond in autumn, and the river is in a dream.

Empty and lonely, thousands of miles of Jedi, the quagmire is vibrant, the things that are immersed are not only living beings, the small rabbits and rats that enter and exit, light as thin, but also deep underground, without a figure.

Only the afterimage of the lamp, the gray and black night, is visiting the spirit of the luminous eye

"Immortal: Slowly Becoming an Immortal" Chapter 108 A Meteor Passing Blue in the Sky is hitting in your hand, please wait a while,

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