When the ancient book restorer Ah Mo was restoring the Song Dynasty's "Shan Hai Jing", he was swallowed up by the ink marks and entered the world in the book. He must complete the obsessive mission of the twelve strange beasts and collect blood essence before he can return to reality - each time he completes a unit, he loses one of his senses. His twin brother Ayan, an archaeologist, glimpses what his brother sees in the real world through "Ink Mark Resonance". A Yan uses historical research as a weapon to rewrite the rules in the book and open up a way for A Mo to survive - but every time he rewrites it, the corresponding ancient book in reality will be completely annihilated.
Two brothers, one inside and one outside, one loses and the other gains: every time A Mo loses a sense, A Yan gains the ultimate sensitivity of that sense. When the twelve drops of essence and blood are gathered together, they will finally face the ultimate decision - who will become the new beast and be written into the scriptures forever?
Jingwei's pearly white eyes hide three thousand years of waiting, Xingtian's broken neck buries stigmatized loyalty, the nine-tailed fox takes the form of the face you desire most, and the pupils of Zhulong imprison the reincarnation of the previous generation of scroll repairers... Every strange beast is a piece of history that has been tampered with; every mission is a question of "reality". What is more dangerous than the alien beasts is the mirror image between brothers - when you taste the sweetness for me, when you bear the pain for me, which one of us is "I"? When Ah Mo threw the last drop of his essence and blood into reality, what Ah Yan caught was his brother's existence itself. The ink remains warm, twins become one, and the thirteenth volume of "The Classic of Mountains and Seas" is at the bottom of a well somewhere, waiting to be rewritten.
"Don't collect all twelve bloods." The previous editor said.
"I'm here." Where the ink dried, someone responded softly.
Intention: When we write about others, we are also being written by others; only by recognizing this intertextuality can we find the coordinates of "I".