Ruili, my sister told me, and the people on the border traded with each other.
At four o'clock in the morning, it was still as dark as the bottom of a pot, and the Jade Morning Market was already crowded. Burmese, locals, Henanese, and Fujianese all speak different dialects together, and the flashlight beams sweep back and forth on the stones, like a group of tomb robbers.
Shi Jiujin squatted in front of a pile of black sand wool, holding an unlit cigarette in his mouth, squinting at a fist-sized stone.
Conception:-