Zhou Xuan saw through the situation and then gave instructions to the Turtle Mountain Taoist.
The Turtle Mountain Taoist quietly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, venting all the fear he had just experienced.
Pointing at the blind rat, he shouted, "You little mouse, pretending to be the Mouse King with your few hundred-pound appearance?
You little pests are dreaming if you want to meet my master! I say you're just daydreaming!"
Having said this, the Turtle Mountain Taoist pretended to leave, striding towards the outside of the church.
A few little mice blocked his way, but the Turtle Mountain Taoist kicked each one aside, cursing as he panted, "An Upper Soldier ascends to immortality in seven days; I'm an upper-class Daoist. Given a few more days, after burning nine sticks of incense, I'd twist off each of your mouse heads and play football with them."
As he spoke, he made a motion as if kicking a ball, aiming his toes at the charred, distant goal.
