C184 Who Is the Dove and Who Is the Magpie

Han Xiaduo fell to the ground and pressed her ankle. The beads of sweat on her forehead slowly gathered to her chin. Under the gentle light, it was sparkling and translucent.

If she was a white swan active in the clouds just now. So now it was falling from the clouds, and though it could not flap its wings and soar, it brought with it a delicate beauty of pity