Xiao Mu, a modern detective, traveled through time and became Prince Xiao Mu of Dajing, and fell into the chaotic realm of the rift in time and space.
The hourglass of Dali Temple is dripping with the dust of time. Time is no longer a thread, but a pot of mandarin duck pot with clear soup and spicy food.
The door to return to the ruins will open at three quarters of noon. Behind the door is the illusion of returning home, and outside the door is the fetters of life and death.
He used the rationality of a criminal police officer to break through the illusion, used the weight of human hearts to resist the devouring of time and space, refused the return of lies, and chose to paint the road with blood.
When you ask about your heart rather than heaven, and yourself rather than others, clear soup and spicy food are no longer choices, but the way of symbiosis.
Let's look at Xiao Mu. In the rift of time and space, using trust as a shield and obsession as a pen, he draws a path of survival that does not belong to Guixu or Dazhou, but only belongs to the human heart.
The writing is very attractive, I like it