Two strange things happened in Beiping City recently.
First, the young marshal of the Xie family, Lu Chen, suffered from a strange illness and suffered from splitting headaches every night. Western medicine said it was due to shrapnel in his brain and could not be cured. But he listened to the opera desperately, only listening to the guy from the Chunxi class.
The second is Shen Li, the leader of Chunxi Class. She has a good voice that can make hundreds of ghosts cry at night, but she is cold-hearted. The young marshal's house invited him to sing in the hall, and he said loudly: "Three hundred yuan a night, the young marshal must personally accept it."
Quan Beiping waited to see how Shen Li died.
As a result, Lu Chenzhen went to pick it up in person that night. His black military coat was stained with snow. He wrapped Shen Li into the car, tilted his head and said, "Boss Shen, I've had a headache for three days. You're responsible for it."
Shen Li smiled softly: "Young Marshal, I get paid for singing, but I don't treat illnesses."
He didn't know that Shen Li approached him to find out about the fire three years ago - thirty-seven lives in the Chunxi Class, and Xie Jiajun's bullet casings were hidden in the ashes.
Lu Chen didn't know that when he fell asleep with Shen Li's drama on his pillow, Shen Li was using his ears that had heard thousands of voices to distinguish every footsteps in his house.
Until the assassin sneaked in that night, disguised as Adjutant Chen, and even the accent was imitated perfectly. Lu Chen's gun was pointed at "Adjutant Chen", but Shen Li came out from behind the screen and gently held his wrist: "This is not Adjutant Chen. Adjutant Chen's left foot is slightly lame. This person landed too hard."
Lu Chen looked back at him, his eyes dark: "Chen Li, who are you?"
Shen Li took off the jade pendant from her ear, which was a relic of his master: "The thirty-eighth person who survived the Chunxi class three years ago.
