When my grandfather was seventy years old, he fell seriously ill and fell into a coma. The Feng Shui master said that he was possessed by a wishing fairy, and any wishes he made after waking up would come true. Sure enough, as soon as grandpa opened his mouth, the aunt immediately won a lottery of 50 million, and the old house was soon demolished. My younger brother was also escorted to the north of Qing Dynasty. My uncle drove a Ferrari to spread the good news everywhere. The fried shop run by my parents was also spotted by investors. Our family moved from a street alley to a large flat in the center. But I was the only one who knew that grandpa was never a wishful fairy, but a weasel who became a spirit in the mountains.
