Three thousand years ago, Shen Xingchenxue stood on the ascension platform. The catastrophe had been overcome and the gate of immortality had been opened. She is the youngest Mahayana monk in the world of immortality in ten thousand years. Everyone said that she would succeed in ascending and become the first immortal in this era. She thinks so too.
Then she fell.
It didn't fall slowly, but in an instant - the last lightning of the heavenly tribulation struck her. Instead of tempering her into an immortal, it shattered all her meridians, dissipated all her cultivation, and plunged her consciousness into endless darkness. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on a cold, hard ground, with a strange, gray-white, glowing ceiling above her head, and her ears were filled with a noisy roar that she had never heard before, like the chirping of countless insects. She struggled to sit up and found that she was wearing the ancient robe that had been torn by lightning. She was covered in blood and her hair was messy, like a refugee who had just climbed out of the battlefield.
Around her were hundreds of mortals holding small luminous boxes, shouting excitedly at her: "This cosplayer is so dedicated! The clothes are so realistic!"
