Sometimes, sitting in prison can feel quite helpless.
Zhou Li sat quietly in his prison cell, looking at the hemorrhoid medicine in front of him, feeling lonely and lost.
"Little brother, are you there?"
"Can I choose not to be?"
Zhou Li felt a bit melancholic. He was about to stage an escape that could rival Shawshank Redemption, but the mood was ruined by this bottle of hemorrhoid medicine and the young man with moles nearby.
"You know, as someone who often mingles at the wine table, a poor man prone to sitting for long periods, enjoying spicy food, and heavy drinking, hemorrhoids are unavoidable for me. And now that we are cellmates, can you bear to see a man in his forties tormented by hemorrhoids, bleeding profusely?"
"Can you live-stream it?"
Zhou Li's interest was piqued, "I mean, live-stream your bloody ordeal."
Moral blackmail only works on those with morals.
"I don't understand live-streaming."
