Dressed in silver, the cold wind was as sharp as a knife.
The vast plains of Dahing Mountain Range lay tranquil, all were buried under the pure white snow.
In an unnoticed corner of the Nameless Mountain Peak, there was an unremarkable Taoist Temple. The walls were blotchy and faded, icicles dangled everywhere from the eaves, and thick piled snow seemed as if it would collapse at any given moment, under intense burden.
The Taoist temple had no name, its Taoist master was known as Shou Chongzi, an unaffiliated cultivator belonging to the right path Taoist school. He had no magic tools, no divine powers, and no disciples - a typical Taoist without any of these three things.
Fortunately, he was sensible enough to realize his shortcomings, seldom quarrelling with others, lest he earns himself the label of never being victorious.
What's the simplest way to avoid quarrelling with others?
Being worthless.
