Every 129,600 years, the cycle begins anew. This time, I’ll burn through the Heavenly Dao!
On the day a lotus blooms from the medicine pestle, the gods and Buddhas of the heavens weep.
On a rainy night beneath Mount Shu, Lin Mo, an obscure young herb gatherer, was making his thirty-seventh failed batch of Foundation Establishment Pills when he suddenly discovered:
The bronze pestle he used to grind herbs was actually a fragment of the ancient Eastern Emperor Bell;
The gravely wounded girl he had casually rescued had Phoenix blood that could incinerate the Eight Desolations;
And the ancient locust tree in the pharmacy’s backyard, dead for three hundred years...
Was unmistakably a remnant of the Jianmu, the divine tree that held up the Thirty-Three Heavens!
