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The Gregorian calendar has reached December of this year, and the weather has not officially cooled down yet. How can it be so warm in winter? Maybe it will be a warm winter again - maybe something not warm will happen again. At this moment, my colleagues and I subconsciously talked about Jackie Chan - Jackie Chan was killed by a bomb in that warm winter. Jackie Chan's sudden death brought countless chills to us in that warm winter. After a good meal in the evening, while lying in a warm bed, my wife and I once again repeated this topic about Jackie Chan. My wife Ying Ming asked me, do you think Jackie Chan deserved his death? This is an old question that often comes up in her mouth, and every time I nod and say yes, he deserves it. But this time, I am too lazy to answer this. I am thinking about a more in-depth answer. I said, let me ask you, if you were Ji Yan, would you blow up Jackie Chan?

At five o'clock in the morning, I was woken up by a splash of urine. After peeing, I returned to the quilt, but my upper and lower eyelids refused to close together despite any words, as if they were competing with me. At this time, I was suffering from nervous system problems, symptoms of weakness, dysfunction, and disorder. My body has been damaged. When I got out of the car in the morning, the rare dazzling light in winter passed through the windshield, which was very dazzling. A tall, thin woman in a mink coat waved to me from across the street. The car slowly came over, and the woman stretched out her white palms and slender fingers to open the back door of the car, and skillfully got in and sat on the seat. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw this woman's white and shiny facial skin. I know this is not her natural beauty.