My name is Ergouzi, and I'm from Toad Gully on Changbai Mountain.
How poor are we? Let's put it this way: when the mice in my house steal grain, they leave me half a steamed bun before they go, just in case I starve to death and they have nowhere to steal from next time.
The village chief says someone like me would starve to death in the city. I tell him, "Come on, I'm going there to promote spiritual civilization."
The day I left, I bragged to the village chief that I'd ridden in on a crane.
He asked where the crane was.
I said it got tired halfway there, so I tied it to the Maybach at the foot of the mountain.
The village chief kicked me. "Get out of here! There's nothing but a donkey-cart track at the foot of that mountain!"
This is the story of a country bumpkin from the Northeast who heads to the city.
No golden finger, no System, just a mouth that could talk the dead back to life, and a spirit so cheerful that even when I'm poor enough to piss blood, I can still laugh about it.
If life has ever ground you into the dirt, come on, let's have a chat.
