One day, Xie Wansheng happily picked up an apprentice and came back. Later, he lay on the bed with a sore back and said with despair: He was wrong. The storm is about to rise, and the blood in Kyushu will run cold. The smell of alcohol makes your hair white, and after ten years of drinking ice, you become old and frivolous. Those days when young people thought they would die because they thought they would live longer are finally gone, and no one can be alone. *Small theater: Xuan Geng: "Master, I heard that you have a lot of vests?" (4) The author has a good heart. If you have any opinions, please express them in a gentle tone; if you want to abandon the article, you don't need to tell me! ! ! (5) Four is unlucky
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