Taoist priest goes to America

Old Bai walked onto the balcony, his blood-red eyes looking down at the scene below.

The crowd on the lawn was scattering frantically. The mobile kitchen, which had been gathered together, was now in disarray, with several fallen umbrellas lying scattered on the ground. A long table laden with snacks was overturned, and cream and fruit were scattered all over the floor.

Men in suits and women in high heels screamed and rushed toward the driveway, scattering in different directions like a swarm of startled ants.

Old Bai's gaze moved slowly across the chaos, like a predator surveying a herd of beasts on the grassland, selecting its prey.

It quickly locked onto a target: the man in the gray suit, the one who had just laughed at Ang Lee as a "beggar" next to Harrington.

He was scrambling towards the parking lot, taking a few steps and glancing back. His face was pale, and his steps were unsteady, as if he were walking on cotton.

It's obvious at a glance that his body has been ravaged by stimulants; he's a long-time addict.

Old Bai climbed over the balcony railing, his massive body plummeting from the second floor, crashing onto the lawn with a loud thud, leaving a shallow crater.

Without pausing, it charged straight toward the man in the gray suit.

Those who hadn't yet run far on the lawn saw this and let out even sharper screams. Old White was running much faster than any normal person; his white fur bent backward in the wind, and his blood-red eyes left two dark red streaks.

When it encountered something in its way, it swung its arm, sending a still-standing folding chair flying into the air and crashing into the bushes. A waiter who couldn't dodge in time was hit by its shoulder and sent flying as if he had been grazed by a truck, rolling several times on the ground before coming to a stop.

Hearing the commotion behind him, the man in the gray suit turned around and was terrified. He let out a broken scream and frantically swung his arms to speed up.

But his body, weakened by tobacco, alcohol, and drugs, was no match for Old Bai. The white-haired giant hand reached out from behind and grabbed his frantically swinging right forearm.

Old Bai grabbed his arm, swung him around like a tattered sack, and smashed him toward the portable kitchen next to him.

The first impact knocked over the shelf full of seasonings, shattering various seasonings and sauces, which splashed all over the gray suit.

Old Bai swung it a second time, this time the gray suit jacket crashed into the dessert table piled high with cream cakes, smearing cream all over his head and face.

……

Next, Master Chef Lao Bai threw an eel upside down into a still-burning cabinet deep fryer, plunging the eel's entire head into the boiling hot oil.

"Sizzle—!!"

Hot oil was poured over the eel's body, which was covered in sauce and cream, causing the eel to struggle wildly.

The eel's skin visibly blistered and charred, and the air was filled with the aroma of sauce and cooked meat.

The eel's struggles grew weaker and weaker, its two fins flaring listlessly outside the fryer, as if struggling, or perhaps just a nerve reflex.

Old Bai slowly walked forward, ignoring the weakly waving shark fin, bent down and grabbed the eel's waist, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of the fish's belly, pulling the fried fish out of the hot oil and lifting it over his head.

The eel's face was completely scalded, revealing the bright red flesh underneath, dripping with oil, and its two eyes rolled back.

Old Bai didn't care, and immediately pressed down with both arms, then suddenly arched his right knee upwards.

"Click."

The crispy fried dough was folded in half by the pancake vendor and neatly pressed into the pancake, while the pink sausage was squeezed out of the pancake.

The middle-aged man quickly rolled up the jianbing (Chinese crepe), cut it in half, put it in a brown paper bag, and handed it to Li An, grinning, "Alright! Eat it while it's hot, young man!"

Ang Lee took the paper bag, the warmth seeping through the kraft paper into his palm. He lowered his head to smell the crisp, caramelized aroma, then handed it to Fineria: "Eat it first, it won't taste good when it gets cold."

Fineria held the pancake in both hands, lowered her head and took a big bite. She squinted her eyes in satisfaction, a small piece of sweet sauce on the corner of her mouth.

Ang Lee looked at her and finally opened his left eye, which had been closed the whole time.

In the left eye's view, the surroundings were a mess: overturned tables, broken tableware, scattered food and oil stains. Old Bai stood on the lawn, lowered his head and took a big bite, chewing a large piece of fried fish.

Ang Lee looked away from the image and reached out to wipe the sweet sauce from Fineria's lips.

"Let's go," he said. "Pancakes taste best when eaten on the go."

Fineria stepped onto the Belgian cobblestone path in DUMBO in her high heels, the heels making a crisp sound as they hit the uneven stone surface.

"I've never been here before," she said as she ate, naturally taking Ang Lee's arm, a gesture she had been making the whole way, starting from the back seat of the taxi.

Ang Lee glanced at her sideways and said, "Then you've hit the jackpot tonight."

"I've hit the jackpot." Fineria couldn't suppress the smile on her face; it looked especially vivid under the dim streetlights.

She unconsciously leaned into Ang Lee's arm, her steps slowing. The streetlights cast long shadows of the two of them on the brick wall, swaying gently with each step.

They turned into Washington Lane, where red-brick warehouses stood silently on both sides, their walls bearing faded and mottled remnants of cargo signs from the industrial docks of the last century.

Fineria suddenly released Li An, walked over, and placed her palm on a mottled brick wall. The brick surface was rough and cold, and she slowly ran her fingers along the cracks between the bricks.

"You know what," she turned around, her bright blue eyes sparkling under the streetlights, "my grandfather started out in shipping, and maybe he built these warehouses back then, but this is the first time in twenty-three years that I've touched this old brick wall with my own hands."

She spoke with a belated joy in her voice.

Ang Lee stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, watching her. This girl, who had been sulking and drinking on the sofa just moments before, now stood in an unknown alley, like a bird just released from its cage.

"Let's go," Fineria waved to him. "There seems to be some graffiti up ahead, let's go check it out."

She ran a few steps forward, then stopped and looked back at Li An, afraid he would lose her. Her dark red suit jacket billowed in the wind, and her hair was disheveled, but she didn't care at all.

Deep in the alley, a wall is covered with a retro graffiti painting, a meticulously crafted urban overlay, where Brooklyn docks, sailboats, cranes, and workers wearing hats from a century ago are intertwined in layers.

Fineria stopped in front of the wall and looked up at it for a long time.

She turned to Ang Lee: "Have you seen 'The Legend of 1900'?"

Ang Lee thought about it seriously: "I haven't seen it."

Fineria paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. She laughed loudly, completely disregarding her image as a young lady.

After laughing enough, she wiped her eyes and said, "You're a really strange person. Sometimes I feel like you can do anything, and other times you're so honest that I just want to knock you on the head."

"Sorry, I'm such a spoilsport. I was thinking of that idiot Harrington. He told me last time that he really liked Shawshank, the protagonist of 'The Shawshank Redemption.' Isn't that hilarious?"

"Just telling the truth," Ang Lee shrugged. "I won't lie and say I've seen it just to please you."

"I can't do something like deceiving women," Li An said, pursing his lips and looking righteous.

"You can't lie to me?" Fineria repeated the question, her tone suddenly softening. "Really?"

"If you can really do that, it will be a game-changer for the men around me who are my age."

She took his arm again, this time pressing closer.