Before we learn to speak, we first learn to scream.
This is an era of ignorance abandoned by the gods. Without the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, there would be no ritual, music, and education. Heaven and earth are unkind and all things are in chaos. In the wilderness, the climate collapsed. Sometimes ten suns come together and the earth is scorched; sometimes the night is endless and frozen for thousands of miles. The gods are walking scourges—today a rain of rotting flesh, tomorrow a fog devouring sound. Human beings have rough spoken language that can communicate "life" and "death", but cannot describe "dignity" and "freedom". Because there are no "words" to define these abstract concepts, human thinking is trapped in the quagmire of existence. Language is as fleeting as the wind, and only the traces engraved on the bones can remain eternal.
Until the boy named "Huang" crawled out of the ruins of the genocide. He lost his voice and his right hand, but used a rough flint knife to carve the first trace in human history - [Death] on a blood-stained dragon bone.
At that moment, the wind stopped and the thunder stopped. The rules of chaos were forcibly torn apart.
From then on, the mountains had different levels, the water had different depths, and people had backbones. He wants to use the knife and pen in his hand to force the indescribable sky to sign a contract called "Order".
"I can't make a sound, so I want these eternal gods and demons to listen to my rules."
