The Dangerous Cultivator

After a day of tossing, I finally got home. The old house was in disrepair for a long time. The house was low and covered with cobweb dust. I swept it all night before sitting down. Looking at the whitewashed gray wall in the last century, waiting for my dad to leave the night shift, open the door and turn on the lights, inexplicably at ease, I really like this feeling, write more at night, Zhu Jun has a good dream.