"Damn little dragon, stinky little dragon, I went out early in the morning and haven't come back yet, I'm dead on that woman's bed! Hmph!" The night fell, and the heat of the day faded away.
There was a burst of firecrackers in the cemetery beside the village, July and a half, Ghost Festival. In the days when I paid for the living expenses of my ancestors, I couldn't do without them. I was afraid that I would take myself away too.
When Shen Lijuan came back from the cemetery just now and burned paper for the dead man, she felt panicked, guilty of being a thief, and was **** by that silly boy. But I'm used to the big stick, and I'm still reluctant to part with the big stick. Burning paper in front of the grave is like confessing, trotting all the way back, my back is still cold.
Chapter end
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