Mr. Mao Shan

In the 17th year of the Republic of China, in the ancient town of Misty Rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the bluestone roads were winding and crisscrossed, and the white walls and black tiles concealed centuries-old events. On the outskirts of the town, a Breeze Temple stands quietly among the mountains and forests. Incense is lingering in the temple, and peach wood swords, yellow paper charms, cinnabar ink fountains and bags of glutinous rice are neatly placed on the table, which is full of the atmosphere of Maoshan Taoism. Taoist Priest Qingfeng sat quietly on the futon, wearing a simple and elegant green robe. His eyebrows were calm and solemn. He gently pinched the magic formula with his fingertips and closed his eyes to rest. In the corner of the main hall, the eldest disciple Awu was squatting on the ground, fidgeting with the copper coins and sword on the case, his eyes drifting to the door, his mind filled with snacks and snacks in the town. The second disciple, Awen, was timid and walked slowly over with a bowl of glutinous rice. His movements were cautious for fear of disturbing the meditating master. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.