Han Feng Jue

A mortal iron spear pierced the ninth heaven! Han Jue, a mortal man, was looked down upon and struggled to survive at the bottom of the Immortal Sect. When the road was cut off, he held a cold gun. From then on, in the back mountain under the waning moon of cold stars, there was an afterimage that stayed up all night and shed blood and sweat. He used his gun as his pen and his blood as his ink to write his own unyielding way! The road to immortality is rugged, and people's hearts are full of ghosts. Gratitude and resentment are as clear as a gun line; love and hatred are as clear as a sharp edge. The sect he once trusted and respected regarded him as a chess piece and abandoned him like a worn shoe; the Taoist companion he once loved so much cut off their love and past and gave him a sword that pierced his heart. Under the ninth level of heavenly calamity, all the people who pointed out that the devil should be punished. Han Jue stood with his spear horizontally, laughing wildly, facing the mighty heaven and thousands of immortals and demons: