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When Mr. Long quietly waited for his wife to return, one hand was leaned against Mengmeng, hairy and itchy.

The snow outside was a bit heavy, and the courtyard was quiet, but it was not dead. He closed his eyes gently, letting go of his light consciousness, and the entire lonely palace slowly enlarged by his only residence--

The messy burning grass in the kitchen was well collected and put together. Many spices were neatly placed on the cabinets. The Lingmi rice was placed on the next layer, a small bag. The nest of the three little chicken cubs was placed in the kitchen with warm stones in the cage. They were squeezing into a ball, and they didn't know what game they were playing.

There is a piece of land without stone slabs behind the kitchen in the partial hall. The soil inside was dug almost, and a shovel was placed next to it.

There was a blood stain in the corner of the wall, which she had accidentally left behind, and it had become dark red.

Through the long corridor, you can reach the main room, just like this one, her traces and smells are everywhere.

The yard is quite big, but it is quite empty, but now it has been planted with a lot of plant seedlings, most of which are under the eaves. One or two plants are out of bounds. With the wind blowing, snow fell on the buds.

Ah, she also has sloppy times.

A smile flickered under his eyes, and Mr. Long moved his legs carefully. The pain from the bones due to the curse made his cheek pale.

These days, he is actually much better. The time to wake up is getting longer. The fifth piece of pronuclear fragments is about to be connected. Only most of the spiritual power is still sealed. It is too extravagant to fly or relieve pain. .

After all, he still has no way to obtain the spirit stone, and his previous accumulation has been plundered in that battle.

He is, however, raised by his wife.

To save.

After a while, he tried to go outside and get something back.

Thinking of the man's appearance, Mr. Long even felt that the pain had alleviated a little, and her slippers were pointed at her toes, and most of her soles were exposed.

Mr. Long's cheeks burned, his feet were big, and his wife forgot to buy him shoes.

When the dragon moved, Mao Chiu's warm back was gone, and he was still planting on the table with a small chirp, but he stubbornly did not wake up and still slept soundly.

Mengmeng is still very small and needs a long time to sleep every day.

Mr. Long didn't care about it. He supported the table coldly with both hands. The light blue clothes swayed in the breeze. His powerful legs once seemed to be broken bones. From his fingertips, he pierced meridians all the way. His muscles were stiff and moving. It is pain that goes deep into the bone marrow.

This looks like a good leg, but it has rotted from the inside.

Without using spiritual force, he could only rely on the strength of his arm to move it little by little, better than a mortal and worse than a lame man.

Mr. Long's knuckles were white, and he finally "walked" out of the range of the table, but there was still a long distance away from the door. The pain had made his forehead ooze dense sweat beads.

He turned sideways and glanced at himself in the bronze mirror in front of the closet-

The face is full of terrible cursed lines, like flowing black and red blood, densely distributed in all directions, from the forehead to the collar. The long hair of the temples was wet and attached to the face, in stark contrast to the pale face that was not covered by the curse mark. The lips are bluish purple, the forehead is gritty, ugly, like a monster.

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