"I was born rebellious, so I chose to overturn the table" Above the sky of Yunze Continent, there are threads invisible to the world hanging.
Mu Yun, a sixteen-year-old kite maker, was born with a rebellious nature, so he decided to touch the sky with fragile bamboo and paper kites. When he cut the twine for the thousandth time at the top of Zhuiyun Peak, the crane-haired craftsman Yun Qingzi arrived with the twelve-bone Sky Blue Kite - a sacred object made from the tail feathers of the ancient Blue Luan. Its wingspan covered the sky and the sun. The sound of the copper bell awakened the birthmark of the Luan Bird on Mu Yun's left arm that had been burned for thousands of years.
"The day the Kite appears in the world is the day when the Kite Guardian will be martyred."
Yun Qingzi left this prophecy and dissipated in the morning mist. Little did he know that the green bamboo whistle that the young man clenched tightly contained evidence of the crime of the first generation of Kite Guardians who killed Luan to seize the soul. In order to pursue the ultimate flight, Mu Yun embarked on the road to burn the sky: he cut off the heart of the Yan tribe girl Chi Xiao to make a weapon in the Molten Flame Valley, cut out his own ribs to make a kite in the frosty snowfield, and even witnessed his tragic death in three hundred reincarnations in the rift of time and space.
"What you are cultivating is not a kite, it is clearly a life-cutting knife."
When Mu Yun finally made the array of thousands of kites that covered the sky and the sun, he discovered that each kite bone was nailed to the soul of a close relative - Yun Qingzi's white hair was entangled in the skull of Chun Yuan, Chi Xiao's molten gold pupils were embedded in Xia Yuan's eyes, and the struggling face on Qiu Yuan's wing membrane was clearly his own self in nine hundred reincarnations.
On the day when the world-destroying thunderstorm predicted in ancient times came, Mu Yun did something that the Kite Keeper would never dare to think of: he cut off all the kite strings and allowed Qian Kite to devour his reincarnation mark. The moment it shattered into sparks, he saw his sixteen-year-old self still clumsily tying twine on the top of Chaiyun Peak. But this time, there was no fate of Qingluan crying blood, no toppling of the seasons.
