In the middle of the night, Mo Jiao fell into a dream.
When Lin Xi was repairing his ancestral poetry manuscript, the ink stains turned into dragons and penetrated his fingertips, and a cold male voice recited in his mind - he had the soul of a Tang Dynasty poet in his body.
Ink-colored blood stains appear on Zhuangyuan Bridge, there are ghost sounds in the middle of the night at Longbiao Academy, and something strange happens at the Painted-Faced Dragon Festival. A stranger came to the door and said, "Mr. Lin, the person in your body should be Wang Changling." Thirty million, can you sell it? "
The thousand-year context of Longli Ancient City has attracted people's attention. The Cultural Development Company, the Historian Pirates Organization, and the Sinister Spiritual Body appeared one after another. Some people hope to refine the cultural heart for immortality, while others want to steal it and resell it at a historically high price. In desperation, Lin Xi became a guardian.
To banish immortals and fight a cultural war, he could only use poetry as a weapon and folk custom as a shield, struggling desperately between reality and history.
Mo Li said: "Culture is a kind of resource, and if you don't use it, it's a waste. "
Lin Xi said: "Culture is the root, not the mine. "
Green mountains and bright moon, he was betting on the lifeblood of a city, he couldn't lose.
——Because the voice in his body told him: If the literary heart is destroyed, within three years, all descendants will forget the roots.
