"No, it's impossible."

Mu Chudi did not believe it.

Hawthorne can't leave her behind.

Van Gogh disagreed. After all, he could have witnessed the pictures at that time. Hawthorne's murderous eyes still feel cold all over.

"Nothing is impossible. That's the way it is. Look at your neck. It's purple, black and purple."

If it hadn't been hard-handed, it would never have been like that.

Mu Chudi did not look in the mirror, but directly lifted the quilt to the ground.

She's going out to look for Huo Miao.

She wants to explain to him.

"Mu, where are you going?"

Van Gogh watched Mu Chu flute disappear in front of...