Short story, short story, short story.
The Buddha laughs at me: half a lifetime of madness and obsession. Greed, anger, delusion, all adding to my sins.
Long, long ago,
there was a great villain in the jianghu named Murong Sheng.
On the first day of every month, he would slaughter an entire family. On the fifteenth, he would wipe out a whole household.
He even had ears that could catch the wind and eyes that could see a thousand miles, keeping watch every moment for anyone who spoke ill of him, so he could dig out their heart and twist off their head.
He was always busy.
He had three heads and six arms, a hideous green face and fangs. He could stop children crying at night, cure the most difficult ailments, and even ward off evil spirits.
He was always busy.
And yet even the great villain sometimes wanted to fall in love.
One day, he fell for someone named Chu Fuguī.
He said, "All those with affection have nothing to hold them back."
He said, "Only the heartless dare to immerse themselves in the act."
Can you please ask for the final chapter of Zhu Mengchen?
Madam, you are actually more happy.