My hair has not been cut since I was born and has grown to long lengths. But I never knew that from the moment I cut off my hair, bad luck would haunt me all the time...
Bodies that cannot be burned; dead old men chatting with me with their heads hanging; dead pregnant women vying for me as a vagina; weasels in the mountains worshiping me as brothers and sisters; seeing myself on stage singing Mulan and joining the army while watching a movie... All of these are inseparable from the word "cunning". All of them seem simple, but they are all connected...
Who am I? Why is this all about me?
