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This Punch Is Called Nirvana
Forget About LeavingCultivation7k Wordsongoing
The genius is born, the wind and clouds are turbulent, where can you hide in a mediocre life? No blood, no chance, only two lines of blood and tears; My brother is burying his bones, but his blood is not yet cold, and his liver and gallbladder are shining brightly at night and cracking the sky. The beauty is dead, the hairpin is still warm, a promise burns the heart and turns into a phoenix; After thousands of tribulations, the sky will be shattered, and even a humble life dares to fight for the
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