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My name is Yunxi. He was the last Taoist ancestor in the world five hundred years ago. Now, I am a nameless sweeping monk in this nameless Zen temple. The morning bell broke through the azure dawn again, and its deep sound shook away the mist lingering in the mountains and the dust that had accumulated for five hundred years in the sea of ​​my consciousness. Holding the broom that had been replaced by countless bamboo branches, I stood under the ancient pine trees in the temple and watched the aftertaste of the bells ripple through the branches and leaves of the thousand-year-old Bodhi tree. Under the tree, next to the pair of stone-carved mango shoes, another layer of new, soft bodhi leaves fell. "Bodhi tree, Bodhi Kalpa, old shoes under the Bodhi tree?" I thought silently in my heart. I don't know which life it was, but I had some thoughts in my heart. I sat there under the tree for three years and carved this question. The Buddha is silent, and neither is the wind. Until I sensed the opportunity to ascend, I retreated to hit the final hurdle. But at the most critical moment, the inner demon suddenly arises, and her figure is all in the illusion. When I was on the verge of failure, I realized that she was the last and most difficult love tribulation on my path. Kill her and the Tao will be fulfilled. If you don't cut it, the Tao will disappear. I chose the third path - self-professed cultivation, entered the world of reincarnation, and used the most clumsy way to resolve this disaster...