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"Over the years, I have sought help from some friends skilled in the Dao, and some advised me to leave Hong Kong. They said, if I stayed in places where Buddhism flourishes, or beside those of high status and unspoken nobility, perhaps I could be saved, but even then, not for long. I have visited famous mountains and ancient temples to no avail; even if I fled to the ends of the earth, these Mingzha Masks would not leave me be. On every first and fifteenth of the lunar month, they come to gnaw at my flesh. A year ago, I went to Beijing and had an all-night talk with Mr. Zhao. That day was the fifteenth, and I was rare to be safe and unharmed. Yet the three Mingzha targeted my eldest son in Hong Kong..."
