I am a Taoist priest. To be precise, I used to be a Taoist priest, and I was a half-assed Taoist priest. The so-called "half-baked" is the kind of apprentice who cannot operate alone without "passing the rules". The word "once" also means that "half-baked" has become a thing of the past. The reason why I don't want to be a Taoist priest is because my grandfather asked me, "Are you going to be a Taoist priest or a teacher?" This is something to talk about later. My parents, including my grandfather and great-grandfather, are Taoist priests, and Taoist priests are the noblest profession in their eyes. Because in their view, human life and death are two different states of human existence. In other words, death is when a person passes from this world to another. The Taoist priest is the ferryman, to use a professional term, to save all sentient beings. The Buddhist scriptures say that no one can make mistakes without being a sage, and there is nothing great that can be done by correcting one's mistakes. All sentient beings have committed endless sins in this world, and the Three Jewels Sutras of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha have been repented and passed on to the world for people to repent, so that they can avoid the gates of hell and be free in heaven. To be honest, I don't know (maybe no one knows) whether people really go to another world after death, or whether there are heavens and hells waiting for all sentient beings. But as a Taoist priest or a former Taoist priest (I think this is not important), I still have a feeling about the separation between life and death that I have seen or experienced. That is where the living people can express their grief and the dead souls can rest in peace.