One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

The waiting hall of the high-speed rail station was bustling with activity.

Zhang Chulan clutched three red train tickets in his hand, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat.

He kept checking the time on his phone while also constantly looking back at the imposing figure behind him, afraid that if he blinked, this living ancestor from Longhu Mountain would demolish the train station.

"Master Uncle, could we... tone it down a bit?"

Zhang Chulan moved closer to Zhang Taichu, lowered his voice, and gave him a fawning smile:

"This is a public place, there are cameras everywhere, and our outfit is already conspicuous."

Zhang Taichu stood with his hands behind his back, his faded old Taoist robe standing out awkwardly in the crowd.

He completely ignored Zhang Chulan's rambling; his half-closed eyes were watching the white train slowly pulling into the station through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows.

"This is what you call...high-speed rail?"

Zhang Taichu's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a hint of indifference.

"Yes, yes, the Harmony Express can run at over 300 kilometers per hour!"

Zhang Chulan quickly introduced himself, trying to pique the gentleman's interest:

"In the past, it would take several days to travel to Beijing by horseback and carriage, but now it only takes a few hours."

Zhang Taichu looked at the streamlined front of the car and slightly curled the corner of his mouth.

"Strange skills and ingenious tricks."

"It's just a metal box on wheels."

He looked away and glanced at the passersby around him who were pointing at him with their phones or even secretly taking pictures.

There was no outburst of anger as expected, nor any warning of the Golden Light Spell.

His eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool, as if he were looking not at people, but at a group of busy ants.

"Let's go."

Zhang Taichu turned and walked towards the ticket gate.

Wherever it passed, the originally crowded people subconsciously parted to both sides, making way for a wide passage.

No one knew why they should let him pass; they just instinctively felt that if they blocked the Taoist priest's path, something bad would happen.

Feng Baobao followed behind with a huge backpack on her back and a blank expression, while stuffing a cucumber into her mouth.

Got in the car.

The air conditioning in the business class compartment was very strong.

Compared to the noise outside, it was much quieter here.

Several business people dressed in suits were working on their laptops when they saw three oddly shaped people walk in, and their brows furrowed involuntarily.

Especially when they saw Zhang Taichu's tattered Taoist robe and cloth shoes, their disdain was undisguised.

"These days, monks are really rich; they're all flying business class."

A man wearing gold-rimmed glasses in the back seat let out a soft snort. It wasn't loud, but it sounded particularly jarring in the quiet carriage.

"I wonder which Taoist temple he came from, putting on a show and putting on airs."

Zhang Chulan's body stiffened, and cold sweat instantly broke out.

He subconsciously looked at Zhang Taichu.

However, Zhang Taichu seemed deaf and went straight to his seat.

He leaned back in the large leather seat, casually draped his legs over the seat, and slumped there as if he had no bones.

"water."

Zhang Taichu closed his eyes and uttered a single word.

"Hey! Here it comes!"

Zhang Chulan quickly took out a bottle of mineral water from his bag, unscrewed the cap, and handed it over.

Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, the man with the gold-rimmed glasses felt ignored and was about to say a few more words to try and get noticed.

Sudden.

He felt a chill run down the back of his neck.

I turned around.

It met a pair of large, emotionless eyes.

Feng Baobao leaned against the back of the seat, half a cucumber dangling from her mouth, her clear black and white eyes fixed on the man's throat.

creak.

Feng Baobao bit off the cucumber in her mouth.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses shuddered, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. He quickly lowered his head, burying his face in the laptop in front of him, barely daring to breathe.

The train started slowly and then began to accelerate.

The scenery outside the window began to rush past, eventually merging into a blurry, indistinct image.

The numbers on the display screen in the carriage kept changing.

100km/h…200km/h…300km/h…

"Grandmaster Uncle, look!"

Zhang Chulan pointed at the screen, a look of smug satisfaction on his face:

"Three hundred and fifty! That speed is faster than most flying by hovering, isn't it?"

Zhang Taichu slightly opened one eye and glanced at the red number.

I glanced again at the telegraph poles rushing past the window.

"Too slow."

Zhang Taichu closed his eyes again, his tone full of impatience:

"Like a tortoise crawling."

"You call that fast?"

Zhang Chulan's lips twitched twice.

Fine.

You're awesome, you're in charge.

Just as Zhang Chulan was about to take out his phone to watch some videos to pass the time...

Zhang Taichu, who had been resting with his eyes closed, suddenly raised his right hand.

The movement was so fast that it left a blur in the air.

The index and middle fingers casually pinch each other in mid-air.

Ding--!

A sharp, metallic clang suddenly rang out in the quiet carriage.

The passengers who were working were startled and looked up.

Zhang Chulan was so startled by the sudden commotion that he almost dropped his phone.

"Master Uncle, what's wrong...?"

He hadn't finished speaking.

Zhang Chulan's pupils suddenly contracted, and he saw between Zhang Taichu's two slender fingers.

Clamped inside was a severely deformed bullet!

The warhead was still radiating astonishing heat, and even wisps of white smoke were rising from it due to its high-speed rotation and abrupt stop.

On the thickened bulletproof glass window beside Zhang Taichu.

Sometime during the day, a small, round hole appeared.

The surrounding area was covered with cracks resembling a spider web.

The wind howled in through the small hole, making a sharp whistling sound.

Zhang Chulan felt his scalp tingle and all the hairs on his body stand on end in an instant.

Sniper!

And it's an anti-materiel sniper rifle!

This is on a high-speed train traveling at 350 kilometers per hour!

How could the other party be able to lock onto the target so accurately?

Even more terrifying is...

My grand-uncle actually caught it with his bare hands?!

"this……"

Zhang Chulan stared wide-eyed at the still-smoking bullet between Zhang Taichu's fingers, speechless.

Zhang Taichu slowly opened his eyes.

He looked at the metal lump on his fingertip, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

"That's interesting."

"They managed to send this thing over from this far away."

"Looks like this trip down the mountain won't be boring."

at the same time.

On a barren mountain, one kilometer away from the high-speed rail line.

The sniper, lying prone in the grass, was intently watching the white train speeding past through a high-powered scope.

His breathing almost stopped, his finger still on the trigger.

That shot just now was the pinnacle of his career.

Prediction, wind speed, vehicle speed, angle... everything was perfect.

According to the script.

The target's head should be exploding like a watermelon right now.

however.

When his gaze passed through the scope and he could see the situation inside the carriage.

The face, covered in camouflage paint, instantly lost all color.

In the lens.

The Taoist priest did not fall down.

On the contrary, they are watching him!

Instantly, an unprecedented fear gripped the sniper's mind.

escape!

We must escape!

The sniper frantically dropped his gun and tried to get up from the ground.

But in that very instant...

He felt a cold snort suddenly ring in his mind.

puff--!

A mouthful of blood gushed out instantly, and then the mission ended, and he lay there forever.

Inside the business class section of a high-speed train.

Zhang Taichu casually tossed the deformed bullet onto the small table in front of him.

The sound of metal rolling around terrified the passengers who had been watching the commotion, turning them pale with fright.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses had now shrunk under the seat, and a faint smell of urine emanated from his crotch.

"Master...Grandmaster..."

Zhang Chulan swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"The one who fired the shot..."

"He's dead."

Zhang Taichu pulled out a tissue from the side and slowly wiped the gunpowder ash off his fingers.

"Since you dare to show your claws to me."

"Then we'll have to be prepared to leave our claws behind."

He turned his head and glanced at the small hole in the car window that was letting in air.

The scenery outside continued to rush past.

"So-called modern technology."

Zhang Taichu crumpled the tissue he had used to wipe his hands into a ball and casually threw it into the trash can.

A disdainful sneer curled at the corner of his lips.

Even if it's made into an iron box, even if it can fly and disappear into the ground.

"But this murderous intent hasn't changed in thousands of years."

"Unfortunately..."

Zhang Taichu leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and crossed his hands over his abdomen.

"To use against me."

"It's still a bit lacking."

"Chu Lan".

"Ah? Yes! What are your orders, Uncle-Master!"

Zhang Chulan quickly replied.

"Have a flight attendant come and replace the glass."

"This wind is... a bit noisy."