"A long whistle sounds as one looks up to the sky with intense robustness filling his bosom. Thirty years' worth of fame and fortune are nothing but dirt and dust. Clouds and moon are all one sees over eight thousand miles!" Someone was full of passion as they recited rhythmically.
This was a mountainous region with beautiful, verdant and lush trees. It was autumn yet again with golden leaves covering the mountains. There were many noteworthy achievements as thirty years had passed and the people living in seclusion here came out one after the other.
A very small silhouette stood atop a mountain; it was the person who was incomparably worked up just now.
But in the end, he was somewhat sorrowful and indignant as he said, "Motherf**ker! Thirty years have passed, yet I, Little Daoist, still haven't changed. I'm still this tiny like the size of a buttocks?!"
