Fang Ping glanced at Gran, who was speaking frankly and confidently. He was a Warrior, and his skills were good, but he was not outstanding. His strength was also in the unknown category among the Warriors.
However, he seemed to be quite knowledgeable about these historical allusions, local customs, and customs. He had the feeling of someone like Ivan.
Speaking of Ivan, Fang Ping still missed that little fatty a little. He was quite interesting.
He looked at the stone pillar ruins by the roadside. Not long after, he entered the coniferous forest again.
When the sun slowly set, the sky darkened and the cold wind blew. From time to time, slender needles fell and gently hit her body.
"Stop, rest on the spot. The night watch tonight is Fang Ping, Frank, White Snow…"
