The Heavenly Master Comes Down the Mountain

I remember when I was a master of Taoism, and he punched the high-level martial artist in the nursing home in the north of the village to the point where he was trembling. The young geniuses from the kindergarten in the south of the village were kicked and cried loudly. When I stopped at the mass grave at the east end of the village, none of the hundreds of spirit kings and emperors dared to breathe.