Does anyone have an introduction to Lu Ban Chi, the author of "Green Bag Corpse Clothes"?

Looking at the introduction below, do you think you are Taiwanese? In fact, it doesn’t matter what kind of person the author is, what’s important is that you can appreciate good books, and I’m the same person! Hope to see the new work of Chi Da as soon as possible! It is said that some time ago, Chi Zi accidentally dropped his notebook in a mountain stream while hiking. It was not easy to borrow a travel friend's notebook to publish an article. I hope the ruler will pay attention to safety and take care! Author: Lu Banchi Date: 2007-12-26 9:07:41 At the invitation of Lianpeng Mozhu, I also want to thank the 2007 tubers for their tireless support: Southwest, on the Tea Horse Road, a lonely traveler, dusty and dark-skinned The face, the resolute eyes staring at the sky...that is me - Lu Ban Chi. In March 2006, on a drizzly day, I stood silently on Tanzi Ridge in Sandouping, Yichang, looking at the vast Three Gorges of the Yangtze River. Mr. Huang Wanli's words "The Three Gorges can never be built" echoed in my ears and made me cry. I have lamented for thousands of years, so I decided to write a memorial poem. Due to well-known reasons, it can only be meant in lies. Looking at today's supernatural forums, there are only "lotus rumors" in Tianya. As a result, "Insect Eyes" came out and was serialized here. Because the style of "Lianpeng Ghost Stories" is unique and highly interactive, I accidentally wandered into it and couldn't forget to leave, so I went on to write "Bird Eyes", "Corpse Eyes", "There is an Old Corpse in My Home", "Old Corpse Inn", "Back View" and "Weird Smile", and in July this year, he painstakingly produced "The Shroud", which is still being serialized to this day. I walked alone along the Tea-Horse Ancient Road westward, which was comparable to the desolation in Ai Wu's "Journey to the South", and I couldn't bear to look back on the past. The moon is clear and the wind is cool, where can I wake up tonight? Looking up at the Beidou, it has already set in the west. There are only a few stars, the chickens are singing in the thatched shop, and the corpses in green bags are walking alone in despair. The night is dark, and it’s hard to sleep here in a foreign land. When I lower my head and look down, my shadow is even more lonely. I am alone. Banqiao is a deserted place, and the hanging pot is so desolate. Suddenly I heard the faint Bunun ringtone on the road ahead, and my eyes were filled with tears

Hope to adopt it