3210, January 1, 0:00. Li Zhixu opened his eyes, and he was a little confused by the sight that was magnified several times more than usual. Fireworks filled the sky and he was accompanied by a group of doctors-like people in white robes excitedly shouting "Success!"
This is his birth.
3210, January 1, 0:00. Qingyuan sat in the Imperial Palace, looking up at the gorgeous fireworks blooming and then disappearing. The scene was the same as in the past, but little did he know that the future had been rewritten.
This is his beginning.
"If it were someone else and he had done something wrong, I would choose to destroy him." Qingyuan smiled, "But if it were you, all I have to do is make you revoke this decision."
"Fuck you." Li Zhixu responded with a polite smile.
The warm and moist beauty with dark belly attacks the severe tongue ache in the late stage of obsessive-compulsive disorder.