Broken Script

The fog that lingers all year round in Qingwu Alley is the rotten turbidity of the world. Bai Zimo held three copper coins in his hand and looked at the world with a cold eye, mad but not mad. Some people dig bones for money, some people sell their daughters to survive, everyone is an actor, and everything is a dead end. A "Broken Script" with blood as ink and bones as pages, written about a hundred years of sins. He does not save people, does not encourage good deeds, he only demolishes the stage and burns the roots of evil. The play can be broken, the situation can be broken, and the world is dirty, but I will clear it up with my own hands.