"Who stole my wotou!"
"It's him! He's a half-dead tuberculosis ghost!"
Ancestor Xuan Mo never expected that he failed to overcome the tribulation and did not die under the Nine Heavens Divine Thunder, but when he opened his eyes, he was kicked in the chest by a little thief. The crime was that he stole a black nest.
I wonder when he, the most dignified person in the world of cultivation, had ever experienced such birdiness!
That's it, let's make peace with it as it comes.
In the 1970s, when he had neither enough food nor clothing, he just wanted to take a group of picked-up boys to work quietly and do some "elegant things" like chickens and dogs stealing, and live a happy life for a few days.
But there are always those who are short-sighted and come looking for death.
"Master Gu, Wang Papi from the grain station has deducted our rations again!"
"Master Gu, Zhao Laizi from the black market has stolen our herbal medicine!"
"Master Gu, the bully from the next village is here to steal the territory again!"
Gu Ye (the ancestor of Xuanmo) opened his eyes helplessly, sat up from the recliner, and his eyes were sharp:
"A mere mortal dares to disturb my Qing Cultivation? It seems it's time for them to see what it means to fight violence with violence!"
From a homeless leader, to a black market overlord, to a mountain landowner... Gu Ye found that he seemed to be getting further and further away from his days of ruin.
