Before he finished smoking, he was hit by a bronze bell and was thrown into the wilderness, turning into a gourd vine with innate spiritual roots at the foot of Mount Buzhou. The seven gourds hanging on the body have not yet transformed, and the voice of Taozu's sermon first penetrated into the gaps between the leaves. I was worrying about how to grab the front row seat when the broken clock in the sea of consciousness suddenly shook - a shadow was reflected on the wall of the clock, looking like a human but not human, squatting in the shadow of the vines and looking up at me.