I Raise a Rusty Blade in the Mortal World

In the heavens stands the White Jade Capital, with twelve towers and five cities.

An immortal strokes my head, ties my hair, and grants me eternal life.

...That's what the books say.

In reality, there is no White Jade Capital in the heavens, only a host of indescribable beings who see heaven and earth as a prison.

My name is Chen Ping'an, a consumptive living in Lin'an City.

I have a blade, one I picked from a blacksmith's scrap heap. Its surface is covered in rust, just like my broken body.

The neighbors say I'm just taking up space in this world, and my blade is just taking up space in that scrap heap.

They don't know that

I use the mortal world as my whetstone, and the blood of all living things as lamp oil.

When I've ground the rust from my blade and honed its edge, I'll make the sun and moon bear witness to a new world.

That year, on Tomb-Sweeping Day, rain fell over Lin'an.

A young man held a rusty cleaver and gazed at the so-called gods and buddhas filling the sky. He whispered:

"This world is too noisy."

This time, let's gaze up at the stars from the mud.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.