When I was bored, I had fantasized about the N ways I could die a hundred years later: I could defend my country with short cannons, go into battle to kill the enemy and sacrifice my life for the country; I could fight earthquakes and provide disaster relief, save the people from fire and water dangers, and die heroically; of course, it would be fine to choose one city to live my whole life and one person to live forever. However, it is all just fantasy and of no use. In reality, my death was neither spectacular nor ordinary and romantic, but unexpectedly and tragically, it became a joke among people across the country and became famous overnight. If you also saw the dynamic sharing of "The most bizarre way to die - a real-life version of a living cushion" in WeChat Moments that day, please don't doubt it, it was me. I was crushed to death by a fat lady who jumped off a building! What a coward. On the way to escape from a blind date with a beautiful woman, tragedy happened just like that... But a miracle also happened... I was reborn as a savage, and I spoke fluent rural non-mainstream English. I started killing monsters and growing sweets with my Kangkang...
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