I really am the vill

Xu Zimo, clad in white, resembled freshly fallen snow. His hair danced with the cold wind, and his eyes were deep and boundless.,Xu Zimo knew that at this time, his father must have found him to talk about cultivation.,Some were merely an ordinary little wooden hut, a slow and clear stream, and a middle-aged man in green clothes sitting on the ground by the river.。