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Chen Fan, a collateral descendant of the Chen family in Qingshan Town, has mediocre spiritual roots and is always at the bottom of his cultivation speed. His parents died young, his clan members looked down upon him, and his resources were deducted. Everyone said that he could only live in the realm of a fighter for the rest of his life. By accident, he picked up a broken piece of ancient jade in a cave under the cliff. The remaining soul was burned out, opening up a hidden vein for him - and he was now qualified to practice. But it started much later than others. "Set your own pace. You don't have to compete with others to be faster, just take it one step at a time." From Qingshan Town to Tianlan Sect, from Zhongzhou to Ancient God Cemetery. He never chases other people's rhythm and steps steadily every step of the way. Those who underestimated him finally discovered that he was not running slowly, but that he was running a long-distance race that others could not catch up with. From one person to a group of people. From a forgotten sideline to the pinnacle that the mainland looks up to. This is the ordinary way - ordinary origin, extraordinary destination.

In the winter of my sixth grade year, a new Chinese teacher came to the school. His surname was Chen. He had just graduated from the normal school and was a few years older than me. During her first class, she wrote a line on the blackboard: "Be poor and strong, and you will never fall into the clouds." She explained these seven words, and then asked who in the class thought they fit this sentence best. No one raised their hands. She walked off the podium and when she passed by me, she lowered her head and glanced at the old book I put on the corner of the table - the cover was still the calendar paper my mother used to wrap, and the edges were yellowed and curled, but every page inside was not dog-eared. She picked it up, turned it over, and then put it back. She said nothing.