On the top of the Tianzhu Mountain, the old Taoist priest looked at the starry sky with red eyes. Eleven years ago, it only shone for a few days and then disappeared, but this time it burned brighter and brighter. The young apprentice's hand holding the fly whisk was shaking, and he asked if another person was going to die. The old Taoist priest did not answer, but suddenly turned his head and stared at his disciple's face for three full breaths. Then he took out a roll of yellow silk from his sleeve and stuffed it into his arms: "Let's go." Go to the foot of the mountain and look for the man named Zhang Jiao. This scroll is an essential art of peace. The wind blew faster, and the pine branches on the top of the mountain were rustling.
