Huayu: Starting from "The Heavenly Bodyguard"

Chapter 122 Money Rat Tail Braid

Reality is sometimes more surreal than movies.

On the streets of America, red bricks and blue tiles stand, with two stone lions baring their teeth and claws at the entrance.

In the middle is a vermilion plaque with the Chinese characters "Zhuge Kongming Feng Shui and Destiny Analysis".

A Stars and Stripes flag was planted nearby, fluttering in the wind.

The neon sign outside flashes the words "Traditional Chinese Medicine Massage, Bedroom Arts, Real Estate Agency, Used Cars, Oriental Antiques" in English.

Shen Mo opened his mouth, feeling that the projects he was running were a bit too diverse.

Now, even if someone said this shop had Sun Wukong's staff or the Queen Mother of the West's foot bath basin, Shen Mo wouldn't be surprised.

This is practically adapting to local customs; they've started all the businesses they could get their hands on.

Zhou Lin was still a little dazed, after all, he had just suffered a huge mental shock just three hours ago.

"Why isn't that woman coming?"

Shen Daniu patted his kidneys and said smugly, "She's taking a bath."

"You beast..."

""

Although Old Chen was also uncomfortable, he was still quite mature and composed.

Old Chen quickly pulled away the young man who was baring his teeth and claws, wanting to fight Shen Daniu to the death.

"Does this store have it?"

Shen Mo scratched his head and said, "If we don't have this, we'll probably be wasting our time in other places too."

"This shop looks really weird..."

""

A clear bell rang, interrupting Shen Mo and Lao Chen's conversation.

A middle-aged man jogged out of the shop and greeted them warmly.

Wearing a mandarin jacket, a rat's tail, and a mustache resembling a rat spirit, he looked exactly like one.

It was the first time Zhou Lin had ever seen someone dressed like this. Filled with curiosity, he was led into the shop by the middle-aged man without even realizing it.

Shen Mo and Lao Chen exchanged a glance, and both of them involuntarily frowned.

As you cross the threshold, the first thing you smell is a sweet, cloying sandalwood scent that tickles your nose.

Under the dim light, the room was filled with all sorts of old furniture, and the walls were covered with portraits of people dressed in court attire.

Judging from their appearance, the three people were Chinese and had just come out.

Zhou Lin, in particular, still had that student-like air about him, making him the easiest to fool.

The rat spirit rubbed its hands excitedly; it had finally found a fat sheep.

The rat spirit, speaking in broken Mandarin, kept trying to get close to Zhou Lin.

Old Chen nudged Shen Mo and whispered in his ear, "Don't cause trouble in a place like this, or you'll cause a whole bunch of problems."

I blinked. It seems this Old Chen isn't an ordinary reporter after all; he even knows people like this.

I also know that these things are all in one big clump.

Shen Mo asked Old Chen with great interest, "Tell me about it."

Old Chen watched as the middle-aged man explained the photos on the wall to Zhou Lin and whispered, "If it's not the Thirteen Factories, it's either a branch of some organization or a bondservant."

"I can't say for sure, when I first came here, I had to go back to my old profession in order to be able to acquire property."

"I guess times have changed, that's why people are doing all sorts of things now."

"Don't be fooled by these bastards who say the same things as us and eat the same food."

"They don't consider us one of their own; they see themselves as descendants of the previous dynasty."

"Moreover, they've been related to each other for generations, and none of them are easy to deal with."

Hearing what Old Chen said, Shen Mo felt that Old Deng definitely had a story, otherwise ordinary people wouldn't know about these rat spirits.

These things are essentially cancer cells.

The host died, and people kept them in bottles to reproduce, and the number of offspring was quite large.

Aside from being lazy, greedy, and prone to cheating and swindling, they never do anything decent.

The stereotypes about Chinese people that are often criticized are all based on material provided by these bastards.

Foolish rednecks, they have to count on their fingers to do addition and subtraction within ten.

Shen Mo has had his share of taking advantage of foreigners whenever he had the chance.

But these rat spirits not only cheat people, they also occasionally concoct little pills.

That would be a grave mistake; otherwise, how could such an evil Mandarin have been born?

The rat spirit kept explaining the great achievements in the photos on the wall to Zhou Lin, which made the young man feel disgusted.

Then they started selling everything from real estate to used cars, and even feng shui packages.

Finally, he sneakily pulled out a jar containing some glittering silver pills, claiming it was a recipe passed down from the palace and had special benefits for men.

Looking to Shen Mo and Lao Chen for help, the rat spirit assumed that the young people couldn't make the decision and needed to consult the adults in their family.

When he saw Shen Mo's face clearly, he screamed, "WhySoSerious?"

Shen Daniu awkwardly touched his nose. That's the downside of being a celebrity; you're always recognized when you go out.

Although I can't stand these people, they recognized me, so I can't be too cold-hearted.

Trying to control his expression, Shen Mo put on a friendly smile and said, "You know me?"

The rat spirit's two small mustaches trembled with excitement, and its sharp voice sounded like fingernails scratching glass.

"You bastard, Joker with the fever, you've ruined the image of us Chinese!"

This bastard's ancestors must have been scholars, otherwise he couldn't have been such a pure scoundrel.

With his awful appearance, does he never look in the mirror?

They actually falsely accused me of damaging the image of Chinese people.

To ruin such a trivial image, like the Mandarin.

Shen Danu always dealt a heavy blow to such scoundrels.

With a sliding step, he closed in on the front.

The hand slipped under the rat demon's arm, then lifted it upwards, sending it spinning in the air.

A hand pressed down on the bastard's head, and he said coldly, "Do you have any yellow paper in your shop? Paper money will do too."

Over the years, this rat spirit has seen quite a bit of the world in this magical land of America.

But this is the first time I've ever seen someone openly robbing paper money.

Shen Mo pressed his hand firmly against his mouth and nose, making it difficult for him to breathe.

The lack of oxygen instantly brought his thoughts back to that stormy night.

My own father, while I was in bed, told me about the ghostly soldiers of evil cultivators.

Legend has it that in ancient times, there were people who would stop at nothing to gain power and would implant the souls of the dead into their bodies.

They called themselves Yellow Turban Warriors, and the spirits of the dead within them were constantly draining the yang energy from these people.

They must regularly perform a specific ritual to draw on the foreignness of others in order to maintain their vitality.

That ritual involved robbing paper money; once the paper money was lit, the "foreign energy" would be drawn away from the person being robbed.

The rat spirit was so frightened that it trembled.

No wonder the Joker with the fever was able to defeat the black boxing champion; it turns out he was the Yellow Turban Warrior.

I'm definitely going to die this time.

My hands feel sticky; that bastard's nose and eyes are full of snot and tears.

The most disgusting thing was that Shen Daniu smelled urine.

Damn it, it's just a piece of yellow paper, why is it like they dug up his ancestral grave?

"Are you fucking going to tell me or not?"

Zhou Lin cautiously tugged at Shen Mo's sleeve and whispered, "Let go of his mouth..."

"