In an era when all people worship gods, incense is power, the throne of gods is monopolized by powerful families, and the poor cannot even afford to burn a stick of high-quality incense.
Xu Zhaochen traveled through time. In his previous life, he was the youngest ritual disciple in a Taoist temple. In this life, he was poor, his mother was ill, he was at the bottom of the spiritual school, and he was laughed at in public.
While everyone was crowding in to worship the popular God of Wealth, he walked alone into the ruined temple in the back alley - there was an ancient god who had hunkered down for decades and no one cared about him.
Clean hands, light incense, recite mantras, and make vows.
The ashes of the incense swirled in reverse, the bells chimed, and the gods opened their eyes.
When others ask God, they kneel down to ask for reward; when he asks God, he sits down and talks about cooperation.
Others offered it to the hot god, and they were beaten to death; he offered it to the qi god, and then he changed hands and became the thigh of the future.
From a poor student who was looked down upon by others, to the co-owner of ten thousand temples across the three realms of the Yang world, the underworld, and the heaven - this time, it was the gods' turn to queue up and wait for him to light incense.
