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So that morning, Ou Yangrong, with his sharp and critical gaze, took a taxi to Donglin Temple. When he arrived, he saw, "Goodness gracious! Not only was Mo Daojun early, but there were even people earlier than him. The queue of worshippers stretched all the way down the mountain. Ahead of him were mostly people his age, huddled in the cold wind, scrolling through their phones.",When he was a child, as long as you gave him a slightly straight stick, there wouldn't be a flower or grass taller than his waist within ten miles of home; stray dogs would get two whacks. If you tied a string to it, not even a tadpole in the pond would stand a chance.,Outside, it was a deluge, at least a roaring flood of hundreds of miles. It could even be like the biblical flood of Yahweh's destruction.。