The Rebirth of the Magic Lotus: the Record of Nezha Burning Heaven

It rained in Chentangguan for three whole years. Not rain—blood. At three o'clock every day, an extra corpse would appear on the tower out of thin air. The young man's neck was broken, the fire-pointed spear penetrated his chest, and Hun Tianling was soaked in blood and turned dark red. And when Mao hour passes, the corpse will disappear, and the people in the city will scream like puppets: "The traitor will be punished!" They did not remember that they had killed Nezha three hundred and twenty-seven times. Until that day, a woman wearing a torn red gauze came out in the rain of blood. She stepped on the blood puddles on the city wall with her bare feet, held a withered lotus petal between her fingertips, and smiled lightly at Nezha, who was curled up among the corpses: "Does it hurt? It hurts." "When Nuwa patched up the sky, the pain of having her soul gnawed away by chaos was thousands of times more painful than this." Nezha's pupils were ablaze with blue and black flames. He recognized this woman's eyes - the same bloody lotus pattern was floating on Lei Zhenzi's torn wings last night. "They treat you as a bug to fix, but I want you to become a virus." This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.