"Cough cough..."
In the early morning, on the third floor of Da Feng Fruit Co., Zhao Yu's cough was suddenly heard.
To Jiang Dafeng, who was opening up his stall downstairs, he was used to such coughing. But, after the coughing that was heard today, there was also Zhao Yu's cry.
"Aiya..."
"What the hell is going on?" Jiang Dafeng kept arranging his watermelon and looked upstairs. He scoffed, "The psychopath upstairs must have gotten worse."
Upstairs, Zhao Yu was naked up to his waist, recording things quickly on his notebook. His eyes were wide open and his writing hand was quivering nervously. On the notebook, he wrote two words: "Kun Gen"!
"Dang it..." Zhao Yu finished recording the hexagram poem and couldn't help but curse under his breath.
He didn't expect to get a "Kun Gen" hexagram that morning. Every time a "Kun" hexagram opened, he knew there must be big trouble coming!
