Zhou Yangu, my distant cousin, is a typical young man who is paranoid, duplicitous, unfilial and unjust. He wants to kill himself, but he spends his whole life with someone he doesn't love. To tell the truth, the scar on his face is like a ghost seeing green, and it is very easy for him to deceive everyone who has been true or false to him.
As a relative, perhaps I should call him the person I should stay away from most.
Yet he died. Because of an inexplicable illness.
When I went to attend his funeral, the room was filled with paper gifts because of a spark, causing his wife and I to absurdly die on his first seven nights at the same time.
What's even more ridiculous is.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw myself. That "I" looked cold and arrogant: "Cousin, you really look like a little gangster."
And I had a terrible scar on my face, the tips of my fingernails were black, and the cigarette burned my fingertips.
First person.
Intention: None