Under One Person: The Taoist Priest Descends the Mountain

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Inside the room, the tall, fat man sat down in the middle chair, leaning back with his legs stretched out, the zipper pull of his leather jacket dangling on his stomach.

Boss Cai immediately changed his demeanor, a fawning smile plastered on his face. He trotted to the corner, took out a tea canister from the cabinet, picked up the kettle, and deftly began brewing tea.

He held the teacup in both hands and placed it on the coffee table next to the tall, fat man. Then he stood beside him, his back slightly bent, like a servant attending to his master.

The tall, fat man picked up his teacup, blew on it, and took a sip.

Boss Cai stood to the side and waited for a moment. Seeing that the tall, fat man looked alright, he cautiously spoke up: "Third Brother, I don't quite understand."

The tall, fat Zhang San didn't look at him: "Hmm?"

Boss Cai rubbed his hands together: "It's that orchard... We went through all this trouble just for those few dozen acres?"

Zhang San'er looked at him without saying a word.

Mr. Cai felt a little uneasy under his gaze and quickly added, "I'm not being nosy, I just feel that there must be a deeper meaning behind what you do, and I'd like to learn from you."

Zhang San'er scoffed, "You think I'm after that piece of land?"

Mr. Cai paused for a moment, then asked, "And you are...?"

Zhang San'er laughed: "The important thing isn't the land, it's the people."

"A person?" Boss Cai was even more confused.

Zhang San'er didn't explain further. He picked up his teacup, took another sip, and waved his hand, saying, "Alright, stop asking. You'll know when the time is right."

Boss Cai nodded quickly: "Yes, yes, I won't ask anymore."

……

Outside the door, Xia He whispered in Cheng Mo's ear, "Why are these two putting on this identity-swap act?"

Cheng Mo shrugged.

Xia He then asked, "Do you think that guy named Xiao Long is watching them?"

Cheng Mo thought for a moment: "There are quite a few extraordinary people at this banquet. It's really hard to say who they're targeting, but I'm more interested in these few among them."

Xia He asked curiously, "So what do we do next? Just wait?"

Cheng Mo's lips curled up: "To stir up trouble and alert the enemy."

Before Xia He could understand what he was going to do, Cheng Mo had already removed the cover.

He made a hand seal with one hand, and an array pattern flashed beneath his feet. An earth-elemental spell shot out from the ground and directly entered the private room.

A fist-sized clod of earth, accompanied by a strong gust of wind, slammed straight at Zhang San'er.

After finishing, Cheng Mo grabbed Xia He and slipped into the empty room next door. He then cast a concealment spell to seal their presence and voices inside.

A muffled thud came from next door.

Zhang San'er cried out in shock and anger: "Who!"

Zhang San'er rushed out of the room and stood in the middle of the corridor, looking around.

The corridor was empty; there wasn't a single person in sight.

Boss Cai poked his head out of the room, his face pale: "Third Brother, is someone there?"

Zhang San ignored him and walked along the corridor.

We found nothing.

Boss Cai cautiously followed them out: "Third Brother, have we been discovered?"

Zhang San'er regained his composure: "Let's go, let's go out and take a look first."

Boss Cai followed behind, his steps hurried and fragmented: "Then we—"

"Shut up." Zhang San'er didn't even turn his head. "We can't afford to panic right now. This gathering was already problematic, and if someone really messes things up, the others won't let that guy off the hook either."

The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance as they descended the stairs.

In the next room, Xia He said with some disappointment, "It's such a pity that it didn't start a fight right away."

Cheng Mo dispelled the spell and opened the door: "I didn't expect him to cause any trouble anyway, let's go."

As soon as the two reached the top of the stairs, they heard a commotion coming from downstairs.

Zhang San'er's voice was the loudest: "Old man! Who are you calling names?!"

Then came Xia Liuqing's voice: "I'm cursing you! Cursing you, you arrogant fool! What? You're not happy about it?"

Cheng Mo and Xia He exchanged a glance and quickened their pace as they ran down the slope.

In the second-floor hall, people at more than a dozen tables stopped eating and all looked towards the table by the window.

Xia Liuqing stood beside the table, one hand on her hip, the other pointing at Zhang San'er, speaking with a strong voice, spittle flying everywhere:

"Who do you think you are! Dressed like a respectable person and sitting here, you actually think you're someone important? When I was making my way in the world, your dad wasn't even wearing diapers yet! You haven't even grown your pubic hair and you dare to act like a big shot in front of your Master Xia?"

Zhang San'er stood opposite, his face flushed red, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

Boss Cai behind him shrank his neck, wishing he could crawl under the table.

Xia Liuqing didn't give him a chance to speak and continued to berate him: "You think nobody knows about your dirty deeds? The Ink Tendon Soft Bone Sect, what a prestigious name!"

"Back then, Liang Ting single-handedly decimated your sect, leaving only your grandfather as his sole heir. Your grandfather dared not seek revenge, swallowing his hatred, and had your father, who in turn had you. Now, you've become something of a success, wanting to be the next Liang Ting?"

Zhang San'er's face changed from red to white, and then from white to green.

Xia Liuqing scoffed, "What? Did I hit the nail on the head? You think you can hide your little schemes? When your grandfather knelt before Liang Ting, begging for mercy, he probably never imagined that his grandson would become the person he hated most, right?"

Zhang San'er suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot: "You're asking for it!"

Xia Liuqing slipped and floated back three meters. The punch grazed his clothes and slammed into the table, shattering a hole the size of a bowl in the solid wood tabletop and sending wood chips flying.

Zhang San'er didn't stop, and stepped over the table to deliver another punch.

Xia Liuqing wiped his face with both hands, and the divine mask instantly appeared—a bearded man with tiger-like eyes, an iron face and black beard, wearing a golden helmet and iron armor, the door god Yuchi Jingde.

He raised his left hand and conjured a black whip out of thin air. The whip was three feet and six inches long, completely black, and with faint lightning crackling around its body.

With a crackling sound, the whip lashed out and the air exploded with a sharp crack.

Zhang San'er raised his fist to meet the black whip head-on. His fist collided with the whip, producing a dull metallic clang that made the ears of those nearby ring.

Both of them took half a step back at the same time.

Zhang San'er shook his numb fist, and the expression on his face changed from fury to solemnity.

With a whip in hand, Xia Liuqing unleashed his full power, his voice booming like a bell: "Come on! Let Master Xia see what you're capable of!"

Zhang San'er stopped speaking, crossed his hands in front of him, his fingers slightly bent, the tips gleaming with a metallic sheen. He squatted down slightly, lowering his center of gravity, his whole body like a fully drawn bow.

The next moment, he was launched into the air.

His speed was so fast that he left afterimages as he swung his fists in alternating motions, each punch accompanied by a whooshing sound. His boxing style didn't concern itself with specific moves; it was all about speed, accuracy, and ruthlessness, with each punch aimed at vital points—throat, temples, chest, and lower back.

Instead of retreating, Xia Liuqing advanced, her black whip dancing in her hand like a black curtain, its shadows overlapping and blocking Zhang San'er's fists completely. Each punch struck the whip with a dull thud, shaking the very air.

The two fought from the center of the hall to the door, and then from the door to the street.

Xia Liuqing fought and retreated, the black whip in his hand sometimes striking, sometimes parrying, sometimes wrapping around, unpredictable in its movements.

Zhang San'er's punches grew heavier and faster, his arms becoming completely metallic, gleaming coldly in the sunlight, and clanging as they struck the whip.

The two jumped out of the hotel and fought their way to an open area outside the town.

Cheng Mo set up a simple magic array. Ordinary people only had a blur before their eyes before the hall was thrown into chaos. The supernatural beings followed to watch the excitement, but no one dared to get too close—those whips and fists were no joke; a single hit would result in death or serious injury.

Cheng Mo and Xia He stood in front of the crowd, watching with great interest.

Xia He whispered, "Little Taoist priest, should we go up and help?"

Cheng Mo shook his head: "Let's take a look first."

The fight between the two became increasingly intense.

Xia Liuqing's black whip suddenly changed its move, its body like a snake, drawing strange arcs in the air as it lashed out at Zhang San'er from various angles.

Zhang San'er unleashed both fists, taking the blows of more than a dozen lashes head-on, each step leaving a deep footprint in the ground. His punches grew heavier and heavier, each one carrying a metallic feel, striking the whips with a crisp clang.

The two exchanged blows, evenly matched.

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