Doomsday Fortress français

On Yuhua Street, cars are like flowing water and people are like a tide. From noon until noon, the neighborhood that is neither new nor old, that does not belong to the soul here, slowly drifts into this ordinary neighborhood.

The eyes that looked like colored glaze opened, looking at the slightly dark yellow ceiling above the head, the owner of the eyes moved.

The unintended movement is like a rabbit, full of spirits, like a patient who has been paralyzed for ten years. The person's fingers twitched slightly, and then moved again. After ten minutes, the strange soul adapts to the old time. body of.

The arm slowly lifted the quilt covering his body. The pure white quilt was once Wang Yi’s favorite color. He struggled to prop up his still limp body and slowly approached the bed. Wang Yi stretched out with one hand in the air. After a few times, I finally got on the bedside table when I was about to rest.

Fingers clasped the corner of the table tightly, his body was constantly moving, half of his body was about to stick out of the bed, Wang Yi finally felt what he wanted on the table.