"The flute."

The familiar voice sounded behind him, and Mu Chudi turned around naturally.

"Shen Jingchuan?"

Shen Jingchuan was standing under a tree 20 meters away from their seat. The Mottled sunshine fell on him. It was comfortable, but the dazzling light did not make people open their eyes.

He paced up to her, his eyes on her, never moving.

Looking back at the past, I just feel that the man in front of me is a little familiar, but I don't remember where I met him.

Strange man, staring at his mother all the time?

Tooth instinctively holds Mu Chudi, trying to block the man's sight with his weak...