C182 Sand Scorpio – Mountain Splitter
Sand Counting Tribe
Six hundred thirty-three in, forty-eight thousand sixty-one out
After a week of continuous rain, the rain was not heavy, but the patter of rain made the air very moist. Faang Zhuo's bedding was still wet, she pinched the cotton wool, feeling that she could squeeze out water. Faang Zhuo wanted to wait for the sun to rise and take out the bedding to dry
