I Swear, I'm No Demonic Daoist

At the Three Purities Temple on Mount Qingyun, there wasn't even half an inch of incense ash in the burner. Lin Yan rubbed his growling stomach and wore the look of a man who had given up on life.

“No way. If I don't go down the mountain and make some money, this temple and I are going to the grave together!”

Lin Yan leapt to his feet and brushed off his robe. It had been handed down by his master, washed until it had faded, with its edges worn through. At first glance, he looked more like a destitute beggar than a sage. With a ragged cloth bundle on his back, he strode proudly toward the foot of the mountain. Lin Yan was already picturing how easily he'd make a fortune with his skills: catch a couple of little demons, draw a few protective talismans, and he'd be rolling in money. Then he could rebuild the temple and eat big white buns at every meal instead of chewing on wild fruit! The more he thought about it, the happier he got. He picked up speed and ran down the mountain path, but after just a few steps, he slipped and tumbled down a dirt slope halfway up the mountain, kicking up dust all the way and landing flat on his back.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

Lin Yan grimaced in pain as he got up and brushed the dirt off himself. Looking at his robe, now covered in mud, he was close to tears.

Off to a bad start. This doesn't look like a good omen...