Under One Person: The Taoist Priest Descends the Mountain

Zhongnan Mountain, by the fishpond at Liangyi Temple.

Cheng Shou moved a bamboo deck chair to the edge of the pond, holding a homemade bamboo fishing rod in his hand, and began fishing.

The lynx, Dali, curled up beside the recliner and yawned.

At first, it was somewhat interested in the freshly caught fish, but every time the old Taoist priest caught a fish, he would look at it and then throw it back into the pond.

The big fox felt this was a complete waste of time; if it wanted to eat, it would have to do it itself. Immediately, it lost interest and closed its eyes.

The big yellow dog was very excited and jumped around Cheng Shou's feet.

Every time the float bobbed, it barked happily.

At that moment, the fishing float sank again.

"Woof woof!" Big Yellow barked around Cheng Shou.

Cheng Shou laughed and reeled in the line: "Hey, I'm really lucky today."

A grass carp the size of two palms was pulled to the surface. As he removed the hook, he muttered to himself, "Why didn't I think of letting that brat practice his meditation by fishing earlier? Teaching him to stand in a stance was such a hassle..."

The big fox glanced at the grass carp struggling futilely in the air, then closed its eyes again—wasn't this the stupid fish that had been hooked and then released? It wouldn't even bother to eat such a fool who never learns from its mistakes, for fear of lowering its own intelligence.

The old Taoist priest reeled in the fishing line, took the grass carp off the bank, and casually tossed it back into the pond.

He rebaited his rod and cast again, his gaze fixed on the gently rippling water. His voice lowered. "I wonder how that brat is doing... Ten thousand yuan, he shouldn't be starving. Winter's coming in a few months, with that money to buy clothes, he won't get cold... Heh, why am I thinking so much? That kid practices kung fu every day, he's not afraid of the cold..."

The old Taoist priest suddenly chuckled, raised his chin at the air, and said with a hint of pride, "Master, look at this disciple I've raised. He's much more reliable than the one you raised back then!"

……

In Qianyang, the fluorescent lights in the hotel lobby were blindingly bright. After Cheng Mo finished checking out, he turned around and saw someone blocking the door.

Wang Zhenqiu leaned against the glass door, his right arm wrapped in bandages and slung around his neck with a cloth rope.

His blond hair was loose, and his face looked particularly exquisite in the morning light—his features were flawless, his skin was fair, and his eyes were bright, making him no less handsome than Xia He.

But when Cheng Mo saw his posture and the outline of his skeleton, he was certain: This is definitely a man.

"Feed." Wang Zhenqiu raised his chin, his tone a mix of righteous indignation and grievance. "You beat me up like this, and you think you can just leave?"

Xia He, who had been adjusting her backpack straps, looked up at the sound and immediately recognized the blond hair. Her eyebrows shot up: "You're the one who tricked me last night!!"

"Don't try to shift the blame!" Wang Zhenqiu immediately retorted, gesturing dramatically to his sling-up arm with his left hand. "Yesterday I was watching the guy who drugged you, and I only went to help when I saw him attack you! But your boyfriend..."

He glanced at Cheng Mo, "You broke my hand right off the bat!"

"Come on!" Xia He stepped forward, standing slightly in front of Cheng Mo. "The little Taoist priest didn't hit the wrong person!"

Cheng Mo reached out and gently patted Xia He's shoulder. "You definitely dialed the wrong number."

He said calmly, "Uncle Hua called last night and said that this kid later wiped out the whole group that drugged you."

Xia He was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at Cheng Mo: "...Are you serious?"

Cheng Mo nodded.

Wang Zhenqiu immediately perked up, straightening his back a bit: "How about that?! I told you! You have to pay my medical expenses! And lost wages, emotional distress compensation... fifty thousand... You don't look like rich people," he rolled his eyes, "five thousand will do."

Cheng Mo looked him up and down. His clothes were from Metersbonwe, his pants were from Metersbonwe, and his shoes looked like a sports brand at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the spelling of the letters was wrong. From head to toe, he exuded a carefully coordinated sense of knock-off.

"You seem quite wealthy," Cheng Mo said. "You're trying to extort five thousand?"

Wang Zhenqiu spread his left hand: "How do I look like a rich person from head to toe?"

Cheng Mo pointed at Xia He: "She almost fainted yesterday, and you still scared her by making noise. You have to pay her two thousand yuan for emotional distress."

He pointed to himself, "I didn't sleep all night taking care of her. You have to compensate me for emotional distress and lost wages, which is three thousand five hundred. So, you owe me five hundred. Pay up."

Wang Zhenqiu opened his mouth, stared at Cheng Mo for two seconds, and suddenly laughed, a laugh that made his teeth itch: "...This is the first time I've met someone with a thicker skin than me."

Cheng Mo cupped his hands in greeting: "You flatter me."

Wang Zhenqiu snorted: "...It's only because my hand isn't fully healed right now. Otherwise, I could have a go at you."

Xia He chimed in, "Keep bragging! Didn't that little Taoist priest break your hand yesterday?"

"That was a sneak attack!" Wang Zhenqiu immediately retorted, shaking his sling arm. "Besides, I only hurt my arm when I was dealing with those bastards!"

"Oh," Cheng Mo nodded, his expression understanding. "So it seems the medical bills should be paid by the man in the suit last night. That means you owe me an extra thousand. Hurry up and pay me."

Wang Zhenqiu: "..."

Cheng Mo stopped talking nonsense, stood still with his feet slightly apart, his muscles slightly tense, the outline of his body bulging under his sportswear, and his eyes stared directly at Wang Zhenqiu, his meaning very clear.

Wang Zhenqiu's eye twitched. He was still recovering from his old injury, and he would definitely be at a disadvantage if they really started fighting.

A good man does not suffer from immediate losses!

"Alright!" He took a half step back, pointed at Cheng Mo with his left hand, then at Xia He, "You two... I've got it!"

Before he finished speaking, he turned and walked away, his steps gliding, and in a few moments he blended into the early morning crowd.

Six words floated back from the sky: "I will be back!"

Xia He looked in the direction the man had disappeared, then turned to look at Cheng Mo, her eyes sparkling: "Little Taoist priest, not bad. I didn't know you had this side to you."

Cheng Mo put away his posture: "You can only talk nonsense with that kind of person. If you try to reason with him seriously, he'll treat you like a toy."

Xia He raised her fist, which was as big as a clay pot, and waved it in front of Cheng Mo: "It's okay~ we'll use this."

Cheng Mo didn't reply, and turned to walk towards the station.

Xia He followed with a smile.

At a street corner, Wang Zhenqiu stopped and felt increasingly uneasy.

He clearly went there to demand an explanation and maybe extort some money, so how did he end up running away in defeat?

That's not right.

He touched his sling arm, winced in pain, and knew he needed to heal quickly; this wasn't over yet.

……

The bus bound for Kirito swayed and rattled as it pulled out of the station.

Cheng Mo and Xia He sat in the last row, with Cheng Mo by the window.

As the car drove onto the highway, Xia He nudged Cheng Mo's arm: "Why are we going to Kirito's place?"

Cheng Mo looked out the window at the mountains of Guizhou rushing past, without turning around: "Let me correct you. It's not 'we,' it's me. It's just that you insisted on following me."

"Hey!" Xia He leaned closer, her pink hair almost brushing against Cheng Mo's cheek. "Little Taoist, you're here again. Believe me or not, one day I'll dump you, and you won't even have a place to cry."

Cheng Mo turned his head to face her, his lips curving upwards in a very deliberate manner, but his cheek muscles remained completely still, forming a standard "fake smile".

Xia He stared at him for two seconds.

"Pfft—hahahahaha!" She burst out laughing, slumping back in her chair, her shoulders shaking. "Stop being normal! Hahahaha! You're so ugly! Hahahaha!"

Cheng Mo turned his head back to look out the window again, and casually pushed the car window open a crack.

Summer in Guizhou is different from that in the north. The wind blowing in carries the coolness and moisture unique to the mountains and forests, which feels very comfortable on the face.

A cool breeze brushed his face, and Cheng Mo's thoughts drifted away.

The circles of extraordinary individuals are incredibly diverse, but few can be systematically organized and categorized into distinct schools of thought.

Among them, there is one particularly special group—actors and entertainers.

But in Cheng Mo's heart, he preferred to call them "acting gods".

Those ancient Nuo opera masks, those lyrics and movements passed down orally, are not offerings to ethereal immortals and Buddhas, but rather performing a kind of condensed imagery that has been accumulated over a long period of time by countless people who firmly believed in, worshipped, feared, and longed for it.

Use yourself as the stage, and invite the gods to join the play.

When acting reaches its deepest point, is it about portraying a god, or... becoming a god?