In 1998, during the wave of layoffs, Taoist priest Chen Xu was also laid off.
The 65th generation lay disciple of Longhu Mountain can draw talismans to read Feng Shui, but in an age where science is paramount, Taoism cannot be exchanged for food. He opened a "Xu Tang" in Jiangcheng, and his main business was to deal with "not very scientific" matters.
The female ghost who delivers sweets every night in the Tongzi Building, the soul of a young man trapped in the game in the Internet cafe, the roaring echo of the machine in the building of laid-off workers... It's easy to give away ghosts, but it's hard to save people. From the Tongzi Building to the Internet cafe, from the demolition site to the Internet celebrity live broadcast room, in twenty-five years, he changed from Daochang Chen to Master Chen, and finally became "that old man who engages in superstition."
The peach wood sword is broken and glued together, the compass is always three degrees off, and the Sanqing bell is dumb. He thought he was adhering to the orthodoxy, but later he realized that what he was upholding was just a craft that was on the verge of being lost and an expired contract with the times.
Until the dumbbells were ringing without any wind, and the candy wrappers were curling up in the firelight. Only then did he vaguely remember his master's words: "Shouyi, in our profession, saving ghosts is fake, but saving people is true."
"Saving whom?"
"Save yourself."
This is a Taoist priest's bankruptcy note and a requiem for an era.
