Yesterday, Lao Di happily snapped his fingers and counted how many monthly tickets there were. Today, the old and tragic monthly pass and the gap between before and after.

The more I think about it, the more melancholy I become. The more I think about it, the more I stumble.

The so-called life for the monthly pass, death for the monthly pass, probably

Hand hit...... Hand hit......

[If this chapter belongs to the author's nonsense such as asking for a monthly pass, please skip and continue to read the next chapter]

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