Chen Zhou carried something strange on his chest - a bronze fragment that had been passed down for more than thirty generations. It had not lost heat for three thousand years, and it always felt like a heartbeat when touched. He had heard his grandfather say "this thing has to wait for blood to be fed" since he was a child, and he just thought it was a story made up by the elders.
Until he bumped into a knife-wielding gangster on an overtime night, and he blocked the knife for a strange girl. The moment the warm blood seeped into the fragments, a whisper that did not belong to this era exploded in his ears. When he opened his eyes again, the incomplete "Human Emperor Sutra" had taken root in his mind, and his fingertips could pick up tiny pieces of light.
He didn't dare to say anything and just dialed the number without the area code on the last page of the family tree. Half an hour later, the black car stopped at the entrance of the alley. The man in Mao suit looked at the fragments as if he were looking at a living thing. He only said, "You have found the right place, this is Jiuzhou Pavilion."
No one told others what the Imperial Sword was, and no one mentioned why the spiritual energy was exhausted. But Chen Zhou gradually discovered that each newly found fragment contained passages that had been deleted from history books - and those passages all pointed to the same sealed word: humanity.
