Hearing faint sounds coming from inside, Lin Xiaoxiao crept inside.
"Mmm..."
grass
Wild mandarin ducks.
Lin Xiaoxiao paused, then turned and left without hesitation.
She couldn't help but think of the scandalous gossip in Wangzi Village, which really broadened her horizons.
Who says the older generation is conservative?
Five children, four different fathers—is that considered conservative?
Outdated in thought, but open in behavior?
No wonder the Chinese, who are reserved and shy throughout their lives, have been able to produce 1.4 billion people.
Ten years into the apocalypse, all the foreigners have died, but the Chinese are still passing on their heritage.
Lin Xiaoxiao couldn't help but laugh.
I'm impressed. (艹皿艹)
After leaving the peach grove, we arrived at the plum grove.
Lin Xiaoxiao's ears twitched, and she tiptoed closer until she saw two figures, one tall and one short, before stopping.
"Ah Ming, eat slowly, don't rush, drink some water." The tall, mountain-like man bent down, unscrewed the water bottle, and carefully fed the person in front of him water.
The person in front of him was a head shorter than him, but not short either. His thin shoulders revealed his bones, and he was as thin as a sheet of paper.
Her voice was light and airy, yet clear and bright like a piece of fine, translucent jade.
"Brother, you eat too."
The man patted his head. "Your brother ate it. These were specially saved for you."
The person in front of him looked up at him with concern, "But you've lost weight."
"It must be because of me that he didn't eat properly."
"You don't care about yourself, but I do."
Lin Xiaoxiao thought to herself, "Holy crap!"
That tone, that rhetoric—it's sure to seduce Huo Jing into becoming a dog.
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