On a rainy night in Jingdezhen, his father's legacy was destroyed, and Su Mo's hands were filled with blood to bind the god-level ceramic system.
Drawing blanks is like breathing, and firing kilns is like refining elixir. He uses porcelain as a sword and vows to make all those who despise traditional skills pay the price.
His peers ridiculed him for talking nonsense, and experts asserted that he had blasphemed against ancient laws.
Until he fired the secret color porcelain that has been lost for thousands of years, and the glaze colors flowed like stars hanging upside down.
Experts from the Forbidden City rushed to the scene overnight: "This technique has been lost long ago!"
Zhao Qiang knelt in front of the fragments and trembled: "That jar back then... I was wrong..."
But Su Mo just rubbed the "marrow-washed white porcelain" that had just come out of the kiln, and smiled lightly: "This is just the beginning."
