When the invigilator's pupils turned into golden vertical pupils, when the mathematical formulas on the blackboard twisted into bloody divine patterns, when the entire examination room turned into a trial ground for gods - I looked down at the three suddenly hot scars on my palms, and memories came flooding back.
It turns out that I was the "Tao Mark Container" used by the last Tao Lord when he beheaded the gods.
It turns out that what I protect is not extraordinary, but the smoke rising from the breakfast stall downstairs at five o'clock every day.
It turns out that there is never more than one sword for killing gods.
I use mathematical formulas to cultivate immortality: "The Pythagorean theorem, how much can it kill the gods?"
I fought with the history textbook: "Today we invite the First Emperor's terracotta warriors to protect China again!"
I used modern technology to set up the formation: "Start the city power grid and let the gods taste the man-made disaster!"
Special agents in Chinese tunic suits sealed off the scene and handed over a bronze mask: "Welcome to join, the successor to Tao Lord No. 0."
The phone vibrated and a countdown came from an unknown number:
"There are 328 days left until the full arrival of the gods in 2046."
"Your mission: collect all the dragon vein relics of the Nine Provinces and rebuild the Dao Lord's inheritance."
"Warm reminder: Your university admission notice has been changed to - Department of Immortal Cultivation, Taoist College."
