They said I was a demon.
He said that I was the most cunning monster on the westward journey, that I was overestimating my abilities, that I had no background and no backing, and that I was a poor thing who was beaten to death by Sun Wukong's three sticks.
These are correct.
But what they don't know is - those three sticks are exactly what I want.
My name is Bai Nianan. No one has called this name for a thousand years.
When I write these words, I am sitting on the top of Lingshan Mountain, watching the clouds rolling and relaxing under my feet. The order of the Three Realms is collapsing and being rebuilt. And I want to write down the truth before everything settles.
Not for justification.
I just want to let future generations know that before I became a "white-bone spirit", I was a flesh-and-blood person with a father, a mother, and a younger sister. I used to be afraid of the dark, the thunder, and the rustling rats in the secret passage.
After that night, I realized that the most terrifying thing in the world was never these.
