The best person in the world, Gu Changchuan, is dead.
The day after his death, three thousand Jianghu people blocked the long street just to steal one of his coffins.
And Shen Zhaoye was just a coffin bearer who received two taels of silver.
Others advised him to keep the coffin, but he had only one word.
"After the money is collected, the people have to be sent to the place."
Unexpectedly, halfway through carrying the coffin, three knocks suddenly came from inside.
A girl holding a red umbrella sat up from the coffin.
From that moment on, Shen Zhaoye realized that Gu Changchuan's corpse bore scars from the nine sects' secrets, and that the footwork he had used to carry coffins on mountain roads since he was a child was actually a martial art that had been lost for three hundred years.
A black coffin, nine old wounds, and nine unique skills lead to a secret that has been forgotten by the entire world for three hundred years.
It turns out that the so-called secret knowledge of famous families did not belong to famous families at first.
The boatman punts the boat, the butcher cuts the bones, the blacksmith swings the hammer, the weaver pulls the thread, the bricklayer climbs the eaves, the watchman listens at night, the medicine farmer walks the mountain, the umbrella maker opens and closes, and the bearer carries the mountain.
The oldest martial arts in the world all come from the most ordinary people.
Shen Zhaoye originally just wanted to send the dead home.
But this time the coffin was carried farther and farther.
In the end, what he was carrying on his shoulders was no longer just a corpse.
There is also a past that the entire world does not want to admit.
Someone asked him:
"Having come this far, don't you want to be number one in the world?"
Shen Zhaoye looked at the coffin bars on his shoulders.
"I don't want to."
"Why?"
"I've seen too many dead people."
"First, second, and finally someone has to carry it."
