A poor woman is telling about her misfortune. Her grief is like a cuckoo crying for blood. She is sad when she hears it. I sighed. I don't understand the feelings between men and women, but I can feel the deep sadness and helplessness in her heart through Wu Xiaoli's telling.

Sanmao's father took a look at his son, who hid his head in his crotch. Now he has no courage to look up.

"if you don't follow him back, maybe you won't die yet," I said with some difficulty.

"at that time, I only thought that he really changed back to the one he used to be, and really...