My path to immortality depends entirely on getting beaten up.
My life-bound magic treasure is a cooking pot.
The women who cherish me and the mentor who taught me treat me like family.
Only when her blade pierced my heart did I understand: all that warmth and good fortune had been nothing but lies, kindling to feed the “vessel.”
As my soul shattered, I raised my pot in the depths of the underworld and swore:
“If you fed me lies for fuel, then blame no one but yourself when I turn this world into a lamp!”
When I returned from the underworld, I no longer carried a black pot on my back,
but a lamp that would burn the entire cultivation world for its oil: the World-Burning Lamp.
Very funny and humorous.