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... Wangsun, like a supple wife:
"Qi Jun, please drink tea."
"I drink a fart!"
Qi Wangsun waved his hand angrily and almost knocked the tea cup in the hands of Xue Daisha to the ground. The amber tea was sprinkled in half.
"Eight grid!" Sitting behind Xue Daisha, the middle-aged man wearing a samurai suit, his face changed, and he got up and pulled out his knife. The whole room where the clear knife shines is a cold, and a sweeping knife is coming on the air, and Qi Wang’ ...
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