Author:
Categories: fantasy (fiction)
Statuses: Updating
He called himself me, he is not a person, he is a beautiful face, only morning and not evening. He does not know what love is, but can call the wind and rain hand cover the sky and the earth. Accidentally, he learned to respect with the "porridge dishes", and from then on the domineering into a soft touch. With the world to say it, originally hate his woman for his poisoning has been deep, love his skin, more love his soul.