"Why are you here?" Eventually, Mo Zhengyan made his voice first, he asked.

Moss did not speak, his eyes fell on the face of the Zheng, the scene with tears engraved into his heart, let his heart suddenly tighten.

"Su Nan said that it would be good to squeeze pomegranate juice tomorrow morning, so I'll pick some more." Song said softly in July.

"Pick it again tomorrow morning, it's dark." Mo Zhengyan returned.

"OK." In July of the Song Dynasty, there was nothing in the blank mind but the answer.

"Go in." Mo Zhengyan said again and shouted, "Zheng Luo."

The Zheng slowly regained consciousness, and she nodded.

Looking at...