C501 This Is a Good Life

The next day, when Mo Zimo woke up, it was already past ten in the morning. He suddenly sat up and glanced around. Although the bruises on the back of his hand were still there, it no longer hurt.

He got up, walked to the door and carefully opened it a crack. He could see that the quilts on the sofa were neatly folded.

Although he couldn't see anyone and could hear where they were coming from