Mount Tai, in a rural house at the foot of some hill.
A 22-year-old youth with fair skin, was covering something while running back and smiling like a kid that had just finished playing with mud in the village.
"Brother Momo! Brother Momo! Guess what I caught… Huh, Brother Momo, what are you looking at?"
The youth looked at the other youth with golden hair, who was sitting by a poor wooden desk and focusing on his cellphone screen.
Like a gangster with a story behind him.
"Little Zhan." Momo took a glance at the youth 3 years younger than him in front. He was commissioned by his senior, Yang Taizi, to take care of this guy called Zhan Er all the way.
As the rule among Taoists, Zhan Er should call him senior martial brother… but, times changed, those hidebound rules were not necessary.
Momo was speechless toward this Zhan Er the whole way. His mind was as young as a 12-year-old juvenile---he was extremely happy and excited to catch a cricket.
