Celestial Masters Alliance

The door opened again, but this time it was not to invite me. Master Mao Tian slowly walked through the door, raised the corner of his mouth, and looked confident. It seemed that he had already determined that I would lose all support and come alone.

Strike first to gain advantage, strike later to suffer disaster. I took out the yellow paper I asked for from Zhang Lingxi and bit my finger. Blood gushed out from my fingertips. The edges of the blood beads were covered with golden smoke. I didn’t have time to think too much and relied on my memory. I imitated Zhang Lingxi's calligraphy and drew it on the yellow paper, then held it between my index and middle fingers and threw it towards Mao Tianshi. Mao Tianshi had a mocking look on his face and hugged the whisk with his hands behind his back, as if my attack was just to make him smile.

The talisman burst into flames and flew directly towards Master Mao Tian. The paper talisman burned out but the characters I drew on it were still stuck in the air. This was different from what happened after Zhang Lingxi threw the paper talisman. Master Mao Tian also noticed something was wrong. He was about to block it, but he took a step too late, and the font went straight into his forehead. Master Mao Tianshi froze there as if the pause button had been pressed.

Success? I cautiously and tentatively took two steps towards Master Mao Tian. Then my vision suddenly went dark, my temple was hit hard, and my body felt like it fell heavily to the ground. Did I regain consciousness?

"Mao Yiping, why don't you always accept the lesson? I warned you last time. You just need to listen to my arrangement and implement it without questioning. This world has never lacked doubts. Just execution and creativity." My collar was pulled up hard, and the force was so strong that it almost hung me in the air. The source of this power was gritting teeth and talking to my face, so close I can clearly smell the bad smell in his mouth. Before I could open my eyes and look at the tormentor, I was thrown against the wall again and fell to the ground.

There were chewing and suppressed snickers all around. I was so painful that I curled up in a ball and lay on the ground to recuperate, my mind spinning rapidly as I analyzed what I just heard. First of all, Mao Tianshi knows my identity, maybe even more clearly than I know myself. It is impossible for him to call me Mao Yiping. Furthermore, he was much shorter than me, so it was impossible for him to grab me by the collar and lift me up. So what was going on?

I reluctantly opened my eyes, and in front of me was a yellow earthen wall, with three skinny children huddled near the corner, casting timid glances at me with the only clean eyes on their bodies. I turned my head slightly and looked in the direction of the sound. There were five or six tall boys squatting under the wall on the other side, stuffing buns into their mouths.

They are obviously much older and stronger than the children in the corner. When the strongest one among them saw me moving, the corner of his mouth immediately curved into a disdainful smile. I thought he was the one who taught me a lesson just now. He stood up and said to the tall boys beside him: "If I can't eat any more, I'll just eat the stuffing and put the wrappers in my bag, just in case."

I climbed up from the ground with my painful body, pointed at the boy who was talking and cursed: "You rob us of food every day. Why don't you return it if you can't finish it? Those steamed buns and bun wrappers you hide would rather become moldy and infested with insects." Don’t give it to us! It’s a waste!”

The boy turned around and narrowed his eyes, slowly walked up to me, kicked me down, put his foot on my chest, lowered his head and said contemptuously: "Putting those things next to me makes me feel at ease. People starve to death here every day. People, food is limited, but people who need food keep coming. Those who starve to death are the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. Why? Don’t you really know? You can only do good deeds and accumulate virtue if you ensure that you have enough food and clothing. If you can't guarantee your own living conditions, how can there be any charity or good deeds? I'm not targeting you to do evil to you, but I want to live. Remember, if you want to live, don't ask for charity from others."

After saying that, the boy turned and left. I lay on the ground, curled up, and a few children by the corner tiptoed past me, their eyes evasive for fear that they would bring trouble to themselves if they stuck to me. I felt bitter in my heart, wondering what I was doing all this for.

These feelings must come from this body, because I shouldn't have feelings myself. The boy who bullied me just now was very precise in his words, and his thoughts were avant-garde and realistic. His clothes were completely inconsistent with his age. I looked at the building where they left and was stunned. Isn't this the orphanage that was blown up by Duan Lingchao?

My eyes went dark again, and then the five-color paper windmills mixed with the warm sunshine and were turned by the cool breeze with the unique sweetness of ice and snow. I held the windmill high and stepped on the traceless white snow on the ground and read loudly: "Disciples' rules and saints' instructions. The first is filial piety, the second is sincerity..."

Suddenly the windmill was snatched away by an old woman in tattered cloth, and her mouth was covered by her rough and oily hands. The woman whispered in my ear: "Young Master, things are no longer the same now. You can't read this outside."

I pulled off the woman's hand and asked, "Why? I'm going to grandpa's house today on New Year's Eve. Grandpa will check..."

The woman's eyes darkened, she stopped talking, and dragged me straight towards the crowded alley. At the entrance of the alley, a group of young people were shouting slogans and waving willow branches to beat a few people wearing high hats who were tied up with ropes. When I was about to rush towards the group of people, the woman hugged me, covered my mouth and murmured: "This happens every day, and I will get over it one day!"

The woman took me back to her crowded house to stay with her children. When it was dark, she went out once in a hurry. When she came back, she was followed by several people. She separated me from another person without a word of explanation. He helped the child to be loaded onto a bullock cart and taken to the orphanage.

My eyes flashed again. I was planting wooden stakes in the grass alone, measuring the distance between the grass slope and the wooden stakes, and then tying thin wires to the wooden stakes. What is this for?

The next day, at dawn, I followed the tall boys dragging the corpse wrapped in straw mats to the grass slope. I deliberately fell on the spot I designed to anger the boy. When the boy kicked me, I raised my hand and grabbed his ankle and twisted it to the side, throwing him down the grassy slope. The wire tied to the stake accurately cut his throat, although it did not cut it directly as I expected. His head, but that was enough.

Seeing this, other people dropped the corpses in their hands and ran away. I got up from the ground, slowly walked down the slope, and stood in front of the boy who was still breathing and his mouth was filled with blood. He stretched out his blood-stained hand to me, as if Asking for help, I avoided his hand, shook my head and said: "You are right, this world has never lacked doubts, what it lacks is execution and creativity. If you want to live, don't ask for charity from others. These things I I’ve remembered it all. Thank you for your advice.”