C1287 All the Male Cultivators in the World Have a Spare Tire 59

Bai Mochen lifted his hand to cover her eyes and pressed his cold lips against her lips.

Rising Moon.

Silence reigned in the room.

Inside that strange wooden house filled with poisonous skeletons, the two of them were wrapped in a embrace.

Time passed bit by bit.

Bai Mochen's actions gradually slowed down.

Through the faint light of the moon