Pequenino bolinho de 70, chupando a chupeta e explodindo moedas de ouro koi

Maple Leaf Brigade.

Fang Mingxi lay on the bed with a pacifier in her mouth, gazing with a dead-inside expression at the suddenly transformed surroundings.

This was not the bedroom she knew, nor the cream-toned living room, and certainly not the enormous balcony at home, crowded with lush green plants.

Before her stood a dilapidated house, dim and dismal, barely ten square meters by rough estimate.

The thatched roof had a gaping hole. A few shafts of light fell through it onto earthen jars in the corner, illuminating the rice broth left from earlier.

Beside her, a battered door hung on its frame, swaying precariously, as if it might fall at any moment. Under her body was a hard-packed earthen bed, and lying there, she could feel a chill seeping straight into her bones.

Fang Mingxi turned her head again and looked at the little girl who had fed her rice broth and then sat by the foot of the bed, chattering nonstop.

The girl had not noticed her at all. She was still bent over, carefully weaving several straw ropes, and from time to time murmuring words that were both familiar and strange.

Piecing the fragments together with great difficulty, Fang Mingxi came to a fact she very much did not want to accept.

She had transmigrated.

Just a day ago, she had finally finished a project she had been following for a long time. Thinking that she could, at last, use the weekend to enjoy the mountain-foraging game she had just downloaded, she had never imagined that the moment she closed her eyes and opened them again, she wou