C163 Little Bastard Is up to No Good

From noon until the sun sets, the horizon is painted red by the setting sun, shining on the earth, the boy's cheeks are red, he's breathing softly, he's holding a handkerchief to wipe the tables and chairs in the yard, His white little hand was already a little torn.

At this moment, a man in a clean suit walked out of the house. He held a book with strange patterns in his hand