The roof was covered with yellowed old newspapers, the walls were mottled, and the windows weren't made of glass, but were grimy paper panes.,Du Fei frowned and didn't plan to cook himself. He turned back into the inner room and began rummaging through boxes and drawers.,"My god, isn't this the widow of Qin" Du Fei's heart raced with a swarm of grass mud horses: "Those two big shots just now... were Liu Haizhong."。