From Mortal Iron to the Dao

His parents were poisoned by the Corpse King. Carrying a thirty-jin broken halberd on his back, the boy walked three hundred li to fight his way into an immortal sect.

The next second, he was kicked straight into a pile of scrap metal. Every day, he carried thirty bundles of scrap until his shoulders were rubbed raw, down to the bone. The menial disciples who shared his room came and went, while the walls filled with the last words of those who came before: