Pang Ya is a fool, and everyone in the village knows that he doesn't understand what he says, and she is also playing the piano with the cow.

The picture is just a little bit refreshed after saying it.

There seemed to be a stench on his fingers. He wiped his body with disgust and stopped looking at the trace of things that were turning hard in his muddy eyes. He threw out the wild hawthorn in his schoolbag with a gloomy face, leaving no one left. Then he leaned over and picked up the books scattered on the ground, brushed off the dust on his head, carefully put them in his schoolbag, hummed, and strode into the village without looking back.

As soon as I walked to the pond, a muffled "puff" sound suddenly came from behind me, like the sound of some heavy object smashing into the water.

His steps stopped and his heart suddenly sank.

Immediately, the villagers shouted panic and chaotic, "It's amazing, Fatty, I can't think of it, I'm going to die in the pond."

Under the old locust tree in the yard, Sun rolled up his sleeves, revealing two thin arms squatting beside a large wooden basin, scrubbing his head and scrubbing his clothes in his hands.

Lao Yang's family had more than a dozen people, except for a few old and young, and the rest were all working in the fields. These clothes were thick and hard to wash, and they could shake off a few kilograms of yellow mud. After soaking them in the water, a large basin of water was immediately stirred into a pot of yellow mud soup.

Usually, Sun would carry clothes to the pond at the entrance of the village to wash it. The water in the pond flowed down from Mianniu Mountain behind the village and flowed to the east. She could also wash the dishes for lunch at home.

But today is different. Qing'er has been rescued from the pond after yesterday afternoon, and she was pinching the people and pouring ginger water. She took her back, but she was not very good.

I had a high fever in the middle of the night and talked nonsense for the middle of the night. She and Qing'er's father didn't meet their eyes all night and just stayed by the bed. As soon as the sky was getting bright, Qing'er's father went to the village to find the old Chinese doctor Uncle Fu. I heard that Uncle Fu went to the town thirty miles away yesterday evening. When Qing'er's father came back and decided with her, he felt that the disease could not be delayed.

Qing'er's father went to discuss with Qing'er's grandfather and drove the only ox cart in the house to the town to get medicine.

These days she is busy with autumn harvest. Her family's young laborers have been sent to the fields to harvest rice, so she has to go there too.

But Qing'er was so sick that she couldn't let it go, so she had to beg Qing'er's grandmother to keep her at home to do her homework. In the past day, she cleaned the yard, shoveled the pigpen, washed the pots and bowls in the kitchen, fed the chickens and ducks and the pig in the backyard, and then moved the clothes of the whole family to the yard to scrub it.

This day, she went into the house and looked at it several times. Each time she had to touch Qing'er's head and feed her a few sips of tea. The child was burning like a charcoal stove in the first day.

Sun absent-mindedly wringed out the water from the clothes in his hand, threw them into the bamboo basket beside him, and then picked up one from the dirty clothes like a pile of hills at his feet and into the basin, rubbing them at will.

On a waxy and thin face, he was worried. From time to time, he looked up at the sun that was about to reach the end, and pricked up his ears and listened to the sound of the ox cart wheels coming from the front yard. From Changping Village to the nearby Qingshui Town, it took more than 30 miles to go back and forth. Qing'er's father had been there for almost two hours. I guess he should come back.

After rubbing his clothes, Sun stood up, wiped his wet hands randomly on his body, turned around and hurried towards the west wing behind him.

When Yang Ruoqing woke up, her whole body was sore and her head was still buzzing.

She had just finished a Class A mission and was on the return helicopter.

This was the last mission of her agent's career, sending a pair of antique calligraphy and paintings to an underground toy auction center in Las Vegas.

After completing this order, her career as a agent will be brought to a perfect end.

However, the plane encountered a severe and strong convective weather over the Pacific Ocean. At the moment of the crash, she vaguely remembered that a green light suddenly flew out of the calligraphy and drilled into her body.

She fell into the sea, and the cold water poured over from all directions.

She struggled in the sea water, trying to grab a wreckage of the plane floating by her side. Her head finally emerged from the water. Fresh air suddenly poured in, choking her and coughing violently, and she suddenly sat upright.

The light that suddenly broke into her eyes made a sour sound in her eyes.

I narrowed my eyes slightly, and when the pain in my eyes faded, I slowly opened my eyes.

What caught my eye was a low and dilapidated house, thatched roof, yellow mud-paved walls had cracked, and there was no decent piece of furniture in the room. There was a faded wardrobe next to the corner of the wall, a teapot was placed on the table with a corner, and two earthenware tea bowls were still open. The only stool was missing a leg, and it was supported by a few mud bricks.

The ground inside the house was bumpy and damp, and the smell of urine from the bed corner chamber pot filled the room, causing a surge in her stomach.

There is no cold sea water or plane wreckage. Where is this dilapidated place that cannot be lived in?

Could it be that she was floating on the sea and rescued by the kind-hearted fishermen

However, it is the 21st century. Looking around the world, even those indigenous people in Africa cannot find such poor residences.

She glanced at the wooden door over there, and a trace of light penetrated through the dilapidated crack. She lifted the wet quilt covered with patches, and was about to get out of bed and go to the door to ask, but her eyes caught a pair of cloth shoes that were indistinguishable in color in front of the bed, and two holes were broken on her toes.

He shook his head slightly, thinking that it would be better to have a pair of shoes than to beat barefoot. Just as she stretched out her feet to wear shoes, something incredible happened.

These feet, which were a bit swollen, were obviously not hers.

She was born with a pair of small and delicate feet, as cute as white jade, and her toenails were as healthy and cute as pink scallops.

But the feet in front of me were rough and heavy. I was afraid that my nails would not be taken care of for ten days and half a month. It was dark inside, and two nails were overturned.

Immediately afterwards, she found that her hands were no longer the same hands as hers.

She is an agent and an international top killer. Years of training left a thick layer of calluses between her fingertips. But she is a hand control, so even though her fingertips are found, her hands are well maintained in other parts, white, tender, smooth, and as delicate as jade.

But the hands in front of you are as thick and short as radishes soaked in water, which is unbearable.

She touched her facial features again. Based on her feelings, her face was not her own either.

What's going on

who is she

Who am I

Where is this

At this time, a "creak" suddenly came from the quiet and dim room, and the dilapidated door opened into a gap in the human body. Then, a figure hurriedly pushed the door open from outside.
Chapter completed!