In my previous life, I could see all kinds of ghosts and monsters with my left eye. I was determined to be a witch by others. I was hit by three arrows and died with my eyes open.
In this life, he is still a yin and yang, and has become a ghost hunter, wandering around slovenly, picking his feet and waiting for business to come to him.
Some people just like me, an ugly and rough girl like me.
Everyone is envious of our deep love. It's such nonsense. I want to pinch this red thread.
He is a handyman who succeeds more than he fails. He has no skills. He is chased by monsters and monsters, and I have to carry him on his back. The knife has no heart, and can only fight with each other. It can make me smoke and vomit blood.
Stop reading and get out, this story is not sweet at all.
The sand sculpture convulsing vixen x the sand sculpture Huantuo rough Chinese goddess stick.