When I was seven years old, I knelt in front of the mourning hall with my parents. Master dragged my grandfather past me. My grandfather's unwilling roar was mixed with the crying of everyone.
When I was seventeen years old, I wore mourning clothes dyed red with blood, slumped down next to my own body and cried loudly, letting the cold iron chains drag me out of the room.
When I was seven hundred and seventy-seven years old, I smiled and stepped out of the house covered with white silk. The ghost behind me was crying shrilly, and the curled fingers left deep scratches mixed with blood and mud on the threshold.
Nice to meet you, I'm Bai Wuchang.
The copywriting looks very pretentious, but the article is actually very happy.
Due to the author's business, this article will be updated after October 14th
If there is a missing chapter, it is due to JJ's twitching. After trying hard to refresh, there is still nothing. Leave a message and Candle will repost it when the author has something to say. If you see an update prompt but don't see a chapter, please don't click on the next chapter carelessly! Notice! ! ! ! It is said that changing www to my has a miraculous effect
Click to protect me~~ Please don't complain about the text order problem on the picture QAQ [In fact, no one will find out if I don't say it = =
New article about candles:
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Conception: