[Heaven and Earth are a cocoon, all living things are silkworms. I shall burn this silk with the fire of tribulation.]
Forty-eight thousand years into the Great Wilderness Era, the Hall of Destiny in the Divine Court sends down nine mysterious coffins. Nine “Heaven's Prophets” are born within them, and the world believes they are children destined to face a great calamity. No one knows that curled up in the ninth coffin is a cancer patient from the twenty-first century.
His name is Lu Zhao. Wrapped around his left wrist is a three-and-a-half-inch, translucent “thread of fate.” This strange ability came with him when he transmigrated, allowing him to see the threads of destiny binding all living beings to the Heavenly Dao. He discovers that the so-called cultivators are merely puppets on threads of fate, raised by the gods; that the state preceptor is a sword immortal who should have ascended eight hundred years ago; and that his childhood friend, a blind zither player, is weaving a web of silkworm thread that will ensnare the Three Realms...
“You say I'm doomed to be a lone star under an evil fate?” Lu Zhao snaps his natal sword, and heavenly flames surge from his seven orifices. “But do you know what we call that in another world? A Pareto-optimal solution.” Behind him, the Yellow Springs of the Nine Hells run backward and form a starry path. The sages of the three teachings become hexagrams, while his sworn enemy, who claims to have calculated every secret of fate, stands drenched in blood, laughing maniacally. “At last, someone dares to slay a god.”
