The night he died, the rain was so heavy it was like pouring water from the sky.
A delivery boy ran a red light and lost everything.
But "gone" is just a mortal's way of saying it. The heavenly saying is: He was chosen.
Selected for what? As a guinea pig. Clear the memory, stuff it into ten reincarnations, and see if his soul can be turned into a labor force in the heaven.
The soul of a deliveryman who has never been broken through the bottom line is in the world of cultivation, in heaven, in all realms, in the netherworld, and in the deepest part of the universe——
He used ten reincarnations to prove the same thing:
People I helped, I forgot their faces. But they remember me.
This is probably the most ridiculous reversal in the universe——
A man who even relied on a notebook to remember his own name was finally defeated:
The Tianquan Pavilion that controls mortal spiritual power,
The ten thousand-year foundation of the ancient divine court,
The body of nothingness that swallows all worlds,
And the creation rift that existed when the world began.
And the way he does these things is:
Fried dough sticks.
No, seriously—
The way he does these things is that he never feels that his kindness is anything special.
This is not a waste stream, a systemic stream, or multiple female protagonists.
This is something that a deliveryman has proven throughout his life:
The temperature of mortals is more durable than the way of heaven.
