In short, I am a dangerous misanthrope.
After my usual fruitless thinking about many causes and consequences, looking back and looking forward, and inserting narratives and flashbacks, I happened to meet him when I was coming down the stairs.
He was dressed smartly, like all country bumpkins do when they go to town.
We can go have a drink, or not.
I could ask about the war on the front lines, or not.
I could chop off his head, use the Tianling Gai as a drowning device, and say, "My recommendation just now doesn't count," or not.
If you can do something, why do it?
So he lost no time and spoke first.
I think he was radiating that absolute excess of hormones to everything within reach.
Conception: