Fu Yan Huo Ming Zhen

He wasn't a heavy smoker, barely smoking a few cigarettes in a month. But after days of constant spinning, his nerves were frayed. The nicotine rolled through his lungs, bringing a brief sense of ease, but with it came the crushing weight of grief over losing a loved one.,Fu Hanlin rolled down his car window and sat in the car for a while. He didn't plan to go upstairs to find her. Tomorrow was his grandfather's funeral, and he still had some things to deal with at home.,It's just that heart, or is the thief's heart still not dead。