In an era when spiritual power was extinct, the only person who could not practice picked up the fragments of God. Guixu said: Let it die, and all things should have a decent ending. Chonghui said: To create something new, use the spirit core of living creatures to weave a new web. Bai Ze waited for seven hundred years, just waiting for an inanimate person who would not pollute the broken pages. Qingya stood between the three parties, holding in his hand the bone flute left by his father and a last word - "Lanyan was not burned by fire." What he was looking for was not a way to repair the world, but the truth about the world that had been concealed for seven hundred years.
