Rong Zhao, male, Nin

Rong Zhaonan put the cart in front of the house and pushed his black-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose: "Now, do we bring things into the house",He was halfway through his sentence when he suddenly raised his eyes sharply towards the path leading to the cow shed, a cold glint of alert appearing in his eyes. "Someone's coming.",That's Rong Zhaonan's uncleaned brush water from cleaning a cow this morning.。