At Kunlun's summit, in the Palace of Myriad Forms, the Three Realms convened in court, with undercurrents surging beneath the surface.
Haotian, Crown Prince of the Celestial Clan, offered the "Pact for Eternal Peace in the Three Realms" with a smile. In an offhand manner, he demanded that humanity surrender "control over the flow of worldly qi." The Human Emperor, Dixin, slammed the table and swore solemnly, "Humanity's affairs are for humanity to decide!"
The young court historian Mo Chen knelt in a corner, brush in hand. As he wrote, "The rift between the Three Realms first appeared," Haotian's icy gaze swept across his brush tip. That glance seemed like a warning, yet more like an omen.
After court, Ji Wa, Dixin's third disciple, quietly urged him, "Was Master perhaps too forceful?" A shooting star streaked across the night sky beyond the window and vanished into the mountains of the northern frontier.
A storm was brewing.
In the Three Realms chess game, history is the blade. The laws of heaven are impermanent, and the fittest plays the chess game. Those who are strong can split the soil and seal the territory, while those who are plotting can steal luck and become kings. The body fell into the secluded world, not obeying the orders of Cao Jie; The soul burns like a spark, and dares to rebel against the fallen star. It can carry the dragon's veins and stabilize mountains and rivers. But if you can't swallow the dead grass, you will suffer eternal sorrow. You can hide in the market place and record the devastation, It can be unforgettable and true. ——Wait until the day when the sea of blood blooms, Let's look at the lonely minister holding his pen. Rewrite the rules of heaven on earth!!
Seeing the exiled painter, Mo Chen felt so lonely [top post]. Suddenly a poem came to mind: Abandoned and independent, Wei Yuyan flies together. I remember when Xiao Ping first met her, Luo Yi had a double heart. The pipa strings speak of lovesickness. The bright moon was there at that time, and it once illuminated the colorful clouds. His sweetheart must have been entrusted by the Emperor of China Welcome to my masterpiece: My Wife Has Four Taoist Companions. [Top post]
One word: cow! No matter the writing, plot, or layout, I hope it doesn't end badly! A tragic epic is written with Ru Rong's historical pen. The author constructs a grand world view of the Three Realms, but focuses the lens on a small historian who writes. When immortals and gods sought power and mountains and rivers overturned, Mo Chen witnessed the fall of civilization with his immortal body, and burned the character of the human race with his blood and tears. The writing style is as magnificent as the sea of clouds in Kunlun, and the fury of thunder is hidden in every word. This is not only a fairy tale plot, but also a soul-searching about memory, inheritance and dignity - the historian's pen can break destiny.
It is obviously a masterpiece of ingenuity. I don't know why it was discontinued. I hope to continue it again✍🏻