Mystic Clan of the P

Below sat a small patch of straw-thatched huts and vast fields of rice.,Remembering the past silently, Lu Jiangxian had a splitting headache. All he could recall was himself collapsing on his bed, weak and drained. The smoke from his rental room and the neon lights flickered around him.,Perhaps because he had suppressed it for too long, Lu Jiangxian's mind suddenly conjured up such thoughts, and his mood even felt a little excited.。