Under the old locust tree in the south of Yancheng, there lies an idle coachman all year round.
His surname is Chen, and everyone calls him Alai. The bamboo hat covers his face, the wine never leaves his hand, a grass stalk is in his mouth, and there is a pile of date stones at his feet.
Others clearly marked the price, but there were only four words on his wooden sign:
Let it go and take a look.
Others travel around the world for fame and fortune, but he only wants the shade under the old locust tree.
It wasn't until a little girl cried in front of him that she couldn't speak, that he held the sword again.
All his opponents were asking him what level of master he was, but he only said he didn't know martial arts.
There are swordsmen, swordsmen, sorcerers, gods and ghosts in this world.
And he was just a driver.
