Poverty and Sickness!

The old Daoist patted the mud on his Taoist robe and realized that there were too many of them, so he couldn't be bothered to clean them up. He squatted next to Zhang Yanfeng, took out a cigarette, and handed one to Zhang Yanfeng.

Zhang Yanfeng took the cigarette and slowly squatted down as well.

Zhang Yanfeng was not young either, or the old Daoist was even older,

the two of them were like old farmers squatting by the edge of a field, watching a village drum show.

"Phew..."

Zhang Yanfeng still found it hard to accept.

"Don't panic. The most frightening thing about our worldview is that it is distorted,

if it is broken, we are not afraid. It is actually easier to rebuild it."

The old Daoist reached out and patted officer Zhang's shoulder, then continued to mutter,

"This landlord is really pitiful. Why did he pretend to be so pretentious? Now he can only live a few episodes."