Grandpa, did you really rebel in the underworld?
“Good grandson, grandpa has no money for the war, burn the money!” Nightmares like this, Zhang Di was happy to mention at least one every day, and then didn't take it seriously. Until one day, he dream that his grandfather was furious: “Brat, why is it so hard to let you burn money? Why don't Grandpa just send someone up there to teach you how to burn paper money by hand!” Grandpa wants to attack the city? That's okay; burn him a bazooka. Grandpa has no money to spend? That's okay; burn two truckloads.” “Boss, zap me a nuke with little boy ...... written on it.” Hell was played out by the grandpas.