Countless memories rolled in.

The war horses that neighed under the scorching sun in midsummer, the silver spear that broke the first rays of the morning sun in winter, the green bamboo in spring, and the red maple in autumn...... are gradually merging with the figure of the teenager.

He bent his eyebrows and smiled heartily and scoundrelly, as if he was about to shout the word "A kite" in the next moment.

He said a kite......

"The Lonely Kite" Chapter 53 Brother...... I'm so tired I'm hitting my hand, please wait a moment,

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