About This Novel
Near three o'clock, Lao You took a nap, urinated, washed his face, smoked a cigarette, and rode his bicycle to the Federation of Literary and Art Circles. This is a forever brand bicycle that Lao You has been riding for ten years now. The paint is already mottled and gray, and it makes a lot of noise and creaks while riding. Lao You rode it slowly to the unit, got out of the car and locked the car. The Federation of Literary and Art Circles is a small, gray building. It is the shortest and smallest building in the entire government compound, and the shabbiest and oldest. It looks like an old woman with small feet in tattered clothes. Lao You stomped up the stairs, stood with his feet at the door that had a small signboard with "Creation Research Laboratory" in red letters on a white background, and reached into his pants pocket to feel for the key.
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