Tang Sinian nodded, sighed and said, "you're right. I can't face what I said. What's more, I'm just dying and struggling. I can't change anything. Fortunately, I'm going back to Yuncheng tomorrow. If I don't see poetry, maybe it will be better. I'll slowly put it down, and I won't become the second Lin Che."

"that's good," said Butong, putting down the sign and the meat in his hand, and raising his hands. "My husband is coming. I'm going to wash my hands."

"OK, let's go."

Butong walked out two steps, then turned back again, and said mysteriously, "do you know what I was thinking during the chat with you?"...