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"I must be the first priest to save the world." Yan Yu felt his chin and felt that his name must be very loud after his death.


"It seems that we have all left portraits in the sun. It's a matter of preparation. In the future, people will have to get us some statues or something. It means that we can come to a shrine or something to worship. Fortunately, we are all grown up. It's really beautiful to make statues." Yang Xi rarely spoke a string, full of smile, no fear.


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He rubbed the Emperor’s head. “Don’t think about it. Get started on those reports. Behave yourself.”