Qiaodian Fortune Telling _ Shiqiaopu Fortune Telling

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On February 24th, 2005/KLOC-0, the sky was gloomy, and the cold northwest wind roared wantonly, suddenly tight and loose, and blew through the deep lanes of Suining street. Confetti and fallen leaves are like thousands of giant butterflies flying in the sky. The wind is like a woman sobbing in the middle of the night, crying like complaining, blowing through the bare poplars in the street, dancing like crazy poplars, blowing through the windows, and the windowsills rattle. Occasionally, I will crash all my life, and I will hear the sound of broken glass. The streets of Suining are deserted. Only a few big supermarkets and clothing stores have people coming in and out from time to time, and other stores or houses are locked. People huddle at home, keep warm and talk about their families. Pedestrians in the street are sparse, all hunched, shrinking their heads, hurrying around, putting their cold hands to their mouths from time to time, breathing hot air. Several ragged fortune tellers huddled under the pier of Suining Changpu Bridge, caught fire and talked smokily. Or East Street caught fire and the whole family died tragically. So-and-so in West Street stole his son's daughter-in-law. When his son found out that his daughter-in-law ran out naked, his son drove her daughter-in-law away with a kitchen knife, one by one, drooling. This is the only anger in this small county located in the western border of Hunan. ...

It should be the whole book.