The next day, Old Xi Zhang came down from Fuyu Mountain, carrying a box half as tall as a person on his back.
In front of Fuyu's Taoist Temple, the snow-haired Grand Uncle Master gazed into the mist where Old Xi Zhang disappeared, and fished an old-fashioned cell phone from his pocket.
"Hello, Kun'er, where are you now?"
"Why are you meddling in other people's business? They have their own people there—if you interfere, those foreigners won't like it."
"What? The Scorching Sun Department is working with them? It's over? Then get back quick."
"It's nothing. I dreamed of the Thirteenth Ancestor last night. I've been feeling too uneasy to sleep."
"Just thinking about last year, and how, back then, those superstitious types who hurt the Thirteenth Ancestor—and seventy years ago, they messed up one of my peers—these people actually dared to set foot in the Divine Land, and even go to Thirteenth Ancestor's old hometown, Nanwu County. How am I supposed to sleep?"
