"Master, please help me!"
Lu Sheng half-squatted on the ground. With tears in her eyes, she said with a sad expression, "When I'm here, not only do I have to pick feces, but I also have to plant vegetables. I'm exposed to the elements every day, and I'm almost like an African refugee."
Lu Zhou looked at her tender face expressionlessly, which was still glowing under the candlelight. He did not speak for a long time.
After a while, he suggested, "My dear disciple, why don't you go to the kitchen and find some charcoal? After you're done, come and cry about being poor."
His disciple's lying skills had not changed at all.
He remembered that when she was six years old, she tricked him into bringing his white horse to the back of the hill to eat grass. In the end, she sneaked down the hill and fell into a deep pit.
If he had not arrived in time, she would have starved to death in the pit.
