Xie Zhenliu, also known as Xie Chi, was a humble Taoist priest in the Taoist sect. My mother died when I was born, and my father died when I was three years old. His father gave his last breath to deliver him to Xuan Weizi, hoping to keep him safe.
Before he turned sixteen, he drew lots and his master Xuan Weizi told him his fortune, saying that he would not live to be eighteen.
He believed it, so he went down the mountain to live his life, telling fortunes, reading feng shui, drinking, playing mahjong, and playing with his life.
Until he met four people.
Shen Zhiwei, who was an expert in solving cases, became blind at every step, but she believed more than him that fate could be changed.
Pei Ranxi, who was looking at the ghost, had everyone in his family dead, but he still stood with his sword in hand, guarding the formation for him.
Jiang Tingyun, who uses poison to survive, is half alive and half dead, but he always delivers hangover medicine late at night.
A desperate song, Zhongli Xian, as aloof as the moon, willing to cut off all seven strings, just to give him a breather.
They broke into his life one after another, like four handwritings on the same piece of paper.
The word "death" was abruptly changed to "life".
But fate never changes its tune easily.
My eighteenth birthday is approaching, and there is only the last lottery left in the lottery box. The signature reads:
"The person who crosses you will eventually cross for you."
But at the age of twenty, Xie Chi, who had changed his fate against the will of heaven, voluntarily gave up the remaining eighty years of his life, chose to divide it into five, and asked Xiaoni to resurrect the remaining four, and at the same time help Xiaoni reincarnate as an adult.
The four people came back to life, but the first sentence was to blame Xie Chi, but Xie Chi didn't care. He had figured it out and wanted to use the remaining sixteen years to live well and accompany the other four people, and more importantly, for Shen Zhiwei.
"Lot" means fate, and "boat" means crossing. The one who "records" is also a record - this is a record of how fate was rewritten by a stick, and how it was lifted up by a group of people.
Fate is not written on a signature, but someone is willing to bear it for you. You don't earn your life, it's something someone is willing to give their life for. The real way to save a person is not to protect him from death, but to make him fear death and not fear death anymore.
Intention: Even if your destiny is a nail on the board, as long as there is a group of people willing to accompany you on this journey, you can live your life from "Lot Down" to "Lot Up".