Just follow the law as you say, I really don’t want to show my holiness in front of others.

The chill was biting, as if it was not coming from the outside world, but permeating from the depths of the body's exhausted bone marrow.

Ye Qingfeng regained consciousness amid a severe dizziness and burning stomach cramps.

His eyelids were as heavy as iron. He struggled to open them, and what he saw was a broken dome covered with cobwebs.

And a statue of a god lying crooked in the shadows, with its golden body peeling off and its black mud body exposed.

The face of the statue looked vague and strange in the dim light, with a kind of indifferent compassion.

Memory is a fragment of chaos, the neon lights of high-rise buildings and the sound of busy traffic.

It was crazily intertwined with the dilapidated and dead scene in front of me, and finally settled.

He traveled through time and possessed the body of a young beggar who died of hunger and cold in this deserted mountain temple.

"Uh..." He tried to move, but there was a rusty stagnation in his limbs and a weakness that penetrated into his bones.

Hunger was like an invisible hand, gripping his stomach tightly, almost wringing it dry.

My throat was so dry that it was smoking, and every breath had a hoarse sound like a broken bellows.

He knew that the original owner of this body was dead.

And he himself, if it weren't for some unknown force brought by time travel to support this broken body, he would probably follow him immediately.

But this amount of energy is very small. It will last for an hour, maybe even less, if you can't find anything to eat.

He, Ye Qingfeng, had to experience the second death in this other world.

The instinct of survival drove him to use all his strength, hands and feet to grope behind the base of the statue, under the altar table, and in the corners filled with fallen leaves.

Food...even a little something to satisfy our hunger...

No, nothing. Just cold dust and rotting sawdust.

Just as despair gradually seized him, his fingers touched a coarse cloth bundle in a hidden recess behind the base of the statue.

With a slight movement in his heart, he dragged it out with great effort.

Unbutton the knot, and there are three stacked sets of old clothes inside.

A gray monk's robe that has been washed white and patched.

A Confucian scholar's jacket with stiff hair and frayed collar.

There is also a blue-grey robe, which is also old, with obvious signs of wear on the cuffs and hem.

But in comparison, it is very complete.

It’s strange, why are there three pieces of clothes here?

Cold, too cold, the cold air penetrates all the time, penetrates the thin beggar's clothes, and goes straight to the bone marrow.

The choice is almost instinctive.

He stretched out his hand and grabbed the blue-grey robe.

The fabric is rough and slightly heavy in the hand, with a smell of aged incense and dust.

He struggled to wrap the large Taoist robe around himself and tied it with a belt of the same color. The wide sleeves of the robe almost hung to the ground.

Although it still can't stop all the chill, at least there is an extra layer of isolation, and I seem to have some psychological support.

The skylight is quickly fading from the slanted gap of the temple door, and the twilight is closing, making the temple increasingly dark and gloomy.

I have to go out, no matter what, I have to find something to eat.

He was holding on to the edge of the cold altar table, and just as he was about to take a difficult step forward, there were sounds of cluttered footsteps and muffled conversations coming from outside the temple door, from far to near.

"Boss, there is a temple here, it looks like you can rest!"

"It's so broken, I don't know if there is an owner..."

"Creak-" With a heart-wrenching sound, the rotten temple door was pushed open.

Seven or eight strong men filed in, bringing with them a cold wind from outside and a strong atmosphere of rivers and lakes.

They were dressed in uniform navy blue uniforms, with swords on their waists, and their eyes were alert and sharp.

The leader was a dark-faced man in his forties with a rough face and lightning-like eyes, which instantly swept across the empty and dilapidated temple.

Finally, the scene was fixed on Ye Qingfeng, who was wearing a Taoist robe in the middle of the lobby.

Ye Qingfeng’s heart skipped a beat.

This situation...

As expected, the black-faced man clasped his fists, and his voice was loud but somewhat polite.

"I'm sorry to disturb the Taoist priest. We are from the Weiyuan *** Bureau, and we are passing through the treasure land.

It's getting late, and I want to stay overnight in Baoguan. These sesame oil money is not respectful, so I would like to ask the Taoist priest for your convenience."

As he spoke, he took out a few pieces of silver from his arms and handed them over.

The silver glows attractively in the dim light.

But Ye Qingfeng was suffering from stomach cramps at the moment, and he knew that although money was good, it could not save the immediate fire.

He reluctantly imitated the other person's appearance, and his voice was low and hoarse due to weakness.

"You're welcome, a deserted mountain temple is not a place to be repaired, so it's okay to stay overnight. It's just..."

He paused and glanced at the packages carried by the other party's group.

"This is just the money for the sesame oil. If you have extra dry food, you can eat some to satisfy your hunger. I will be very grateful."

His voice was gentle, with a natural sense of exhaustion, and matched with the old but neat Taoist robe, it looked even more spacious and empty at the moment.

In this ruined temple shrouded in twilight, it somehow fits the image of a lonely hermit.

The black-faced man was slightly startled, and looked at him carefully. Seeing that his face was pale and his lips were bloodless, he looked like he was hungry, and then he smiled heartily.

"The Taoist Priest is an expert and doesn't care about fame and wealth. Lao Wu, give some of our dry food and dried meat to the Taoist Priest, and get a water bag."

The man under his command, known as Lao Wu, responded and soon brought a pile of pancakes, dried meat and a leather water bag to Ye Qingfeng.

Ye Qingfeng thanked him and didn't care anymore. He sat on the haystack in the corner and started eating quickly.

He did not correct the other party's statement. It was a new arrival and a Taoist priest seemed to be quite good. It was better than a beggar.

The food is rough, but it is better than any delicacies at this moment. After the warm stomach, the fatal emptiness and cramping pain are slightly relieved.

The escorts obviously traveled frequently, and they quickly cleared an open space.

They picked up dead branches in and around the temple, built a bonfire, and took out their own wine bags.

The jumping firelight dispelled the coldness and partial darkness of the temple, and also brought a touch of warmth and popularity.

After a few sips of strong wine, the fatigue of the night road was dispelled, and the chatterbox of the escorts gradually opened up.

As they chatted all over the world, they lost their initial guard against Ye Qingfeng, a "Taoist priest".

Ye Qingfeng was so happy.

He ate slowly, replenishing his strength, and occasionally added a word or two when the escorts were talking about the world and the local customs.

He has insights and thinking perspectives far beyond this era. Although he does not speak much, his tone is gentle.

But every time he opened his mouth, he might be able to point out the location of a pass, or he might be able to draw an analogy.

There was a unique transparency in his words, which made the escorts sometimes nod and sometimes marvel.

I felt that although the "Taoist Master Ye" I met by chance was dressed in shabby clothes, he was really approachable and knowledgeable, unlike ordinary Taoist priests.

At some point, the topic was led by a young *** to gods and Buddhas.

"...To say that the most mysterious stories in the world are those stories about immortals and Buddhas.

Boss, in your travels, have you ever heard of any deeds of immortals and saints?"

The black-faced *** took a sip of wine and shook his head.

"How can true immortals be so easy to see? There are some rumors about mountain spirits and wild monsters, and lonely ghosts, which make your ears tingle."

Ye Qingfeng's heart moved, thinking of the magnificent masterpiece in his previous life.

He swallowed the cake in his mouth, wiped his hands, and said slowly.

“When talking about gods and Buddhas, Pindao remembered a widely circulated story about strange things.

It was about a stone monkey who was born to disturb the heavens and claimed to be the Monkey King.

Later, he protected an eminent monk named west Anecdotes about learning scriptures and conquering demons along the way."

"Stone Monkey? Monkey King?" The escorts were immediately attracted by this novel name, "Taoist priest, tell me carefully!"

Ye Qingfeng picked up the popular fragment from "Journey to the West".

It briefly talks about the birth of Sun Wukong, his journey into the Dragon Palace to seize treasures, and his havoc in the Heavenly Palace.

Going to the Wuzhi Mountain, he vividly described the grand scene of the palace, the immortals, gods and Buddhas, and the magical powers in his words.

Although the details are not described in detail, the grand layout and wonderful imagination are far beyond ordinary rural ghost stories.