C641 Yearning

Within the courtyard, it was extremely quiet and devoid of any traces of life.

In the courtyard, in a room that could not be considered elegant, the slightly aged Zhuang Tianyu sat on a stool in front of an ancient wooden bed. He had a pale white hair.

Time, on their faces carved its wind and frost, wrinkles have long covered, white hair floating.

Zhuang Tianyu's eyes were a little cloudy