When I went into the mountains, I still wore a long braid.
I was only five and a half back then.
By the time bombs came crashing down on my head,
I was already pushing thirty.
I was meditating then, practicing the most orthodox Daoist cultivation method.
“Holy crap, thunder! Huzi, hurry home and bring in the laundry!”
A huge white tiger let out a roar and ran off.
With the “thunder” booming again and again, when I woke up, half my body was buried in the dirt!
My meditation sanctuary, the place with the densest spiritual energy in the entire mountain,
had been blasted flat by the bombs.
“Damn it all!”
I'm leaving the mountain!!! I won't ascend to immortality until I've had my revenge!
Too much nonsense
You're so cowardly, I look at the pain. I don't know how you wrote it. You should be writing about yourself.
It's okay, but there are a lot of mistakes in the text. Sometimes the sentences don't make sense. I hope the author can work harder 🤭