Chapter 64: Playing Mahjong In The Funeral Hall

“Ah, Little Black, I’ll compose a poem for you too.”

The two little paper figures watched the two people embracing below, and Little White couldn’t help getting playful, saying something to Little Black.

Little Black heard it and replied flatly, “Get lost.”

“Little Black, why do you have no culture at all? Writing poems is for literati and gentlemen. Listen to my poem: Little Black looks dumb, short arms and thin legs. If a girl wants to plants a kiss, my God, damn it, you wouldn’t even be able to find his mouth, hahaha…”

“Little White, you bastard, I’ll squeeze...