Fan Jian

Ten years of life and death, no thought, no self-forgettable solitary grave thousands of miles away There is no place to speak of desolation. Even if we meet, we should not recognize the dust on our face, and our hair is like frost. At night, you are dreaming of returning to your hometown. We are dressing up at the window of the small building. We are looking at each other. We are speechless and have thousands of tears. It is expected that every year, the broken heart will be short of pine trees on a bright moonlit night. Zombie fanfic This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.