The air conditioner is out of order, and the air is hot.

I don't know if it's because the temperature in the room is rising, or if the staggered shortness of breath is getting faster and faster, and the sweat is getting more and more.

At first, it can barely hang on the forehead or drip into the eye socket.

But in the end, even the deep eye sockets couldn't bear the fine sweat.

He could only let it slide down his cheeks and land on Van Winting's white shirt.

Wangqing thought, fortunately......

"Typhoon Signal No. 8" Chapter 107 But I Didn't Give Up The Bloody Desire 3 is hitting the hand, please wait a moment,

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