When I woke up, I became a tea tree with innate spiritual roots and enlightenment.
Taking root at the foot of the mountain, I originally thought about the three great tribulations of Long Han, Lich, and Conferred God.
Unexpectedly, Sanqing came to drink tea every day, and Nuwa wanted to drink tea when she was tired from pinching soil. Even when Taozu gave a sermon, he had to prepare two taels of tea.
While I was making tea, I watched the powerful men fighting life and death, hiding their merit and fame.
Until one day, the demonic fire of Luohou reached Mount Buzhou, and the whole world shouted: Fellow Tea Tree Taoist, help!
Reader comments
Opening this book feels like stepping into a secret realm of dialogue with oneself. What wanders among the words is not only the plot, but also the whisper of thoughts. It is not eager to tell you the answer, but gently opens a window to let light into the dark corners of the heart.
Every page you read is like peeling off the shell of life to reveal its soft core. Those sentences grow quietly, clinging to the walls of memory, opening up new understandings. When you close the book, the world is still the same, but the way you look at it is different.
This may be the meaning of reading - not to arrive, but to start again.
Opening this book feels like stepping into a secret realm of dialogue with oneself. What wanders among the words is not only the plot, but also the whisper of thoughts. It is not eager to tell you the answer, but gently opens a window to let light into the dark corners of the heart. Every page you read is like peeling off the shell of life to reveal its soft core. Those sentences grow quietly, clinging to the walls of memory, opening up new understandings. When you close the book, the world is still the same, but the way you look at it is different. This may be the meaning of reading - not to arrive, but to start again.