The raindrops on Sima Ming's face were covered by a strange umbrella.
Sima Ming couldn't help but reach out with his left hand and grab the ancient oiled paper umbrella in the air. At this time, the umbrella created by the oiled paper suddenly automatically retracted and fell into Sima Ming's hand with a 'whoosh' sound, just like returning to its owner's hand.
Sima Ming stood fixedly in the rain, holding the oilpaper umbrella in his hand. He was shocked by the incredible and mysterious affair in front of him. "Why did the words of the woman in black in the City God Temple turn from real to real? Does an umbrella really appear!!! And flying to him?"
He fixed his eyes on the umbrella in his hand. He found that this umbrella was very old and ancient. It was definitely not produced now. Thi
