I, Chu Xiaochuan, became the most dashing Jianghu legend in my writing, but I became an unlucky guy who lost all his martial arts skills. I have the entire plot of "Canglang Sword Song" in my hand, but I can't even beat the waiter in the tavern. As soon as the front leg used Brazilian Jiu Jitsu to knock down the flower picker, the back leg was forced to act as a yamen official - other young heroes carried a sword on their waist, while I carried a homemade sulfur soap and a silver needle poison test bag on my waist. I casually dismantled my ancestral black iron umbrella and used it as a pointer to explain "how to use the Pythagorean theorem to solve the secret room murder case" to the Six Doors agents. Yan Xiaoqi was using the tip of my umbrella to string the heads of three wanted criminals to collect debts: "We agreed to split it 30-70!"
From the brothel oiran's poisoning case to the mysterious death of the martial arts leader, I took the bounty hunter, the poisonous doctor and the blood-phobic boss to turn the world upside down. He used physical inertia to improve Qinggong footwork, used trigonometric functions to create "Geometric Sword Technique", and relied on the hallucination of eating poisonous mushrooms to decipher the cipher text of the previous dynasty. While all the sects were tracking down the secret book of "Wild Fox Zen", I was filming a story at a restaurant story-telling stall: "If you want to know the true meaning of martial arts, listen to the explanation in the next chapter - now insert an anti-counterfeiting advertisement for hidden weapons."
This world is crazier than what I wrote myself, but who told me that my broken sword manual could absorb the opponent's moves? As I watched the sword manual transform from three pages of graffiti into a martial arts encyclopedia, I suddenly discovered that the handwriting on the massacre of my family twenty years ago was exactly the same as the handwriting on my editor's reminder letter in real life...
