Chenxiang followed Yang Jian down the mountain and left the place where his mother had been depressed for half her life. Yang Jian didn't want to fight anymore. He wanted to open a Meishan Bank in Donghai City, wanted to teach Chenxiang to play the tune that was always out of tune, and wanted to watch the child play the bamboo flute crookedly in the yard and scare the sparrows in the backyard into moving. He wiped the harmonica clean and raised it to his lips, just wanting to play a tune in the wind, but the list wouldn't let him go. He wasn't going to hide anymore.
Yang Jian stood in the wind and snow on the top of Kunlun Mountain and said that he had blown this list. Sun Wukong put the wine bowl on the table and said to lift the table. He had been waiting for this day for more than three thousand years, waiting for a man who knew everything but squatted at the mouth of the Guanjiang River and refused to move. Li Yunxiang stood by the East China Sea and talked about the last time he made trouble in the sea. It's not to slap anyone's muscles, it's to return a favor. The man healed Kasha's leg, then put a harmonica and a knife on his table and said, "Nezha, thank you for remembering." The three great rebels and the three gods of war in heaven fight for fairness and for the last time without a fight. There will be battles and partings. There will be people who put a sea buckthorn fruit into their mouth, wrinkle their face with sourness, and then wait for that little bit of sweetness, like waiting for the person who has been walking for a long time to finally find the way home.
Concept: The myth that once dominated the three worlds
