Taoist priest goes to America

"You're taking pictures of me without my permission!" she shouted, her voice loud and each word emphasized.

"I saw your camera pointed at me, you perverted Asian!" Her voice rose, her chest heaving with her rapid breathing.

Ang Lee glanced at her, but instead of showing her the screen to prove his innocence, he simply leaned back in his chair and said calmly, "You say I filmed you, where's the evidence?"

The white girl paused for a moment, then shouted angrily:

"Ah! I saw you took a picture. Take out your phone and open your photo album!"

"Now, right now! Don't talk to me, take out your phone!"

"Why should I?" Li An didn't even want to look at her. He stretched, turned off his phone screen, and put it in his sleeve.

I got this phone from the bald black man; it probably contains some photos related to the underworld, so I definitely can't let anyone see it just to be safe. Besides, I'm facing a false accusation, so I can't give in to what they want.

"You say I secretly filmed you, then you should provide the evidence, right?" Li An stood up, walked slowly to the emotional girl, and looked down at her.

"It's not like I said I was secretly filmed, so why should I have to produce evidence?"

The white girl's face turned bright red. She hadn't expected that this Asian man in a Taoist robe would not only remain calm but also engage in some kind of "teasing" with her.

She couldn't swallow this insult.

"Why won't you take it out! You pervert! You slut! You son of a bitch!" she screamed and started cursing.

Her Black boyfriend reached out to pull her away: "Hey, don't do that—"

However, the white girl was not satisfied with just verbal abuse. She raised her right hand and slapped Ang Lee with her hand, which was painted with bright red nail polish.

Ang Lee didn't dodge; his hand was much faster than her slap.

With a flick of his Taoist robe sleeve, his right hand emerged from the sleeve, his five fingers joined together, transforming into a hand blade that stabbed out directly.

He stabbed the white girl in the throat with a chopstick.

"cough--!"

The white girl's eyes widened suddenly, her mouth opened, and she began to cough dryly.

She covered her throat with both hands, her face turning from white to red, and she immediately began to have difficulty breathing. She tried desperately to breathe but couldn't catch her breath, and her knees buckled, causing her to kneel on the ground.

Ang Lee gave her no chance to catch her breath. He reached down with his right hand, his five fingers digging into her long golden hair, clenching it tightly before pulling it up sharply.

He pulled the white girl's head up by her hair, her face contorted in pain and suffocation, tears and snot streaming down her face.

Ang Lee grabbed her hair and forced her face toward the metal handrail next to her.

"boom--"

Her face slammed into it, her nose hitting the metal armrest squarely. A dull thud followed, accompanied by the sound of bones cracking.

Her nose bridge collapsed, the nasal bone broken, forming a purplish-blue dent. Blood gushed from both nostrils simultaneously, splattering onto the stainless steel armrest and staining the collar of her off-white cashmere coat red.

She finally cried out in pain, a painful whimper squeezed from her throat, a sound mixed with blood and snot.

Ang Lee didn't let go. He gripped her hair, changed direction, and lifted her head off the armrest like he was carrying a coconut, then slammed it against the edge of the bench next to him.

One, two, three, four.

Her face slammed against the edge of the plastic chair seat with a dull thud.

Ang Lee remained expressionless, as if he were dribbling a highly bouncy basketball.

Blood gushed from the wound on the white girl's face, flowing down her nose, cheeks, and chin.

Her sobs grew fainter and fainter, her body began to go limp, her legs kicked wildly on the floor, and one of her high heels fell off, revealing her foot clad in stockings.

The Black boyfriend finally recovered from his shock and fear.

"Stop! Stop! STOP!"

He rushed forward and reached out to grab Li An's shoulder. He was half a head taller and stronger than Li An, but before his hand could even touch Li An's Taoist robe, a gun was pressed against his crotch.

The black muzzle of the gun was pressed against his zipper. Ang Lee's left hand gripped the gun, while his right hand still clutched the white girl's hair; he didn't even turn his head. His thumb rested on the safety, and he flicked it lightly.

"Click".

The insurance has been issued.

A crisp metallic clang rang out in the quiet subway car.

The Black boyfriend froze, his hands hanging in mid-air. His eyes looked down and saw the black gun barrel pressed against his groin.

Ang Lee turned his head to the side, looking at him with disdain, as if he were doing something completely ordinary.

"Try moving," Li An said coldly.

"If you don't want your precious little brother to blossom, you'd better stay put."

The Black boyfriend's Adam's apple bobbed. His lips trembled; he seemed to want to say something, but no words came out.

His gaze shifted from the gun barrel to Li An's eyes, who was turning his head to look at him, his eyes filled with indifference.

The Black man slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, indicating that he would not do anything reckless.

The carriage fell completely silent. Only the rumble of the train and the faint, indistinct moans of the white girl could be heard.

The woman rubbing her feet put down her board and peeked over with her small eyes. The man holding the dog specimen stopped chanting and turned to steal glances at them.

The man holding the rabbit mask and the dog-walking woman stared intently at Li An with burning interest. Even the middle school student engrossed in his game and the animalist lying on the ground looked up to see what was going on.

Li An released his grip and shook off the blood-stained blonde hair that had been ripped from the white girl's head.

The white girl's body slid off the edge of the bench and collapsed onto the carriage floor.

Her face was covered in blood, her nose was sunken, and her face was covered in swollen wounds, all stained with blood. Her golden hair was also soaked in blood, clinging to her face in strands.

The collar of her cashmere coat was no longer recognizable; the off-white had turned a dark red. She was still breathing, but very weakly, each breath accompanied by a hoarse sound from her throat.

Ang Lee knelt down and wiped the blood from his hands with her clothes. Then he stood up, switched the safety off his pistol, and tucked it back into his waistband.

Ang Lee turned around and stared at his Black boyfriend.

The Black boyfriend still had his hands raised, his posture unchanged, his eyes were red, and tears were welling up in them.

He looked at the blood-soaked woman on the ground, then at Li An, opened his mouth, and said in a hoarse voice, "She...she was just an ordinary girl, she wasn't a bad person..."

"If you're not a bad person, you shouldn't frame others." Li An glanced at him, spat, and sat back down.

The Black boyfriend didn't say anything more. He slowly squatted down and helped his girlfriend up from the ground. The woman leaned against him, blood smearing his shoulder. He pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket and awkwardly pressed them to her still-bleeding nose; the tissues were quickly soaked with blood.

The train began to slow down, and an announcement came over the loudspeaker: Manhattan – Union Square, 14th Street.

We've reached our destination.

Ang Lee stood up, told Lao Bai to follow him, and walked towards the car door.

Outside the carriage, a group of foreigners of various skin colors had gathered, all drawn by the sounds of Li An's violent beating, and were standing there watching the spectacle through the carriage door glass.

When they saw Ang Lee about to come out, the foreigners in the front row were startled and exclaimed. They hurriedly pushed to the back, and the crowd became chaotic.

However, the riot was quickly quelled, and when Ang Lee came out, they automatically made way for him.

Ang Lee didn't pay attention. He and Lao Bai, an Asian man in a Taoist robe and a tall man wrapped in a tent cloth, stepped onto the platform one after the other.