A prisoner on death row came to the Xiyan Pavilion, and the madam ordered him a half-crazy tuberculosis woman to earn two taels of silver. The two sat and drank for a long time, and suddenly recognized the death row prisoner as the number one scholar who paraded around the streets with a hairpin.
"I think you have a good eye. How about staying overnight today without charging you any money?"
The death row prisoner looked contemptuous, turned around and left angrily. He was going to die, not because he was hungry.
The tuberculosis ghost was even more disdainful: "Isn't it just reciting poetry?"
How did she know about his poem at the tail-burning feast?
That's a thing of the past.
Now there is only a death row prisoner and a lunatic, making waves in the place of prostitution.
Intention: to find solutions in the boundless mountains and rivers
