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Yang Zian, a graduate student in ancient times, spent thirty yuan to buy a fake jade pendant, and has since become a lifelong VIP of the "Global Human Emotions Radio". The channel on the left shows a Tokyo programmer collapsing over a bug, the channel on the right shows a Berlin artist scratching his head at the canvas, and the background music is always the "Best Ethnic Style" single loop. This is not over yet. The alien "Order Property" sent the silver-haired patrol envoy Su Qingyue. He felt that the people of the earth were too noisy and had too much drama, and wanted to implement a "global silent format." Facing this beautiful girl in the starry sky who wanted to do "general cleaning" on his brain, Yang Zian looked at the broken pottery pieces passed down from his ancestors, the baked buns he bought on the road, and the loud square dance BGM in his head, and made a decision: "Comrade, do you want us to cut off the Internet and mute the sound? First ask the frying pan at the breakfast stall downstairs and the square dance lead dancer Aunt Zhang if they agree with the sound system!"

In the late Jiajing years, I, Shen Mo, was a bit noisy. Ever since I worshiped the ancestral jade pendant, my sea of consciousness has become a venue for fights between gods: Li Bai urged me to drink and write poems every day, Qin Shihuang wanted me to come to the world at every turn, Wang Yangming took advantage of every opportunity to question my conscience, Zhuangzi advised me to lie down, Xin Qiji shouted about the Northern Expedition... Oh, Liu Bang and Cao Cao, who had just moved in yesterday, were pulling their sleeves in the conference room over "how to politely kick each other out." They call this "blessing by ancestral spirits", but I just think it is "spiritual internal consumption and luxurious family bucket". Until I touched a sword mark left by Li Bai outside the city of Yangzhou, and accidentally lit up the "Poetry Sword" skill - using poetry as ink and all things as pen, I can "write" the mountains and rivers in my heart, the tastes on my tongue, and all the living beings in my eyes as a sharp edge towards reality. I thought I could live a cool life with this "cultured person fighting", but unexpectedly: Qin Niang, who was saved casually, is a key criminal of Jin Yiwei; The Confucian scholar I met by chance was a giant who had retired from the court; Even the ancestor in my mind who shouted "I'm 70%" seems to be quantumly entangled across time and space with Emperor Jiajing's scandal of cultivating immortality. Beauty scrolls hide murderous intent, and landscape poems are full of battlefields. And I, this poor scholar who holds court meetings and fights by writing poems in my head, who just wants to taste delicious food and see the beautiful scenery, I had to amidst the quarrels of my ancestors, Pull out that rusty sword, To this absurd yet real Ming Dynasty in front of me, I would like to say something softly: "Here comes the pen. Just one word from me can control the world and settle the storm."

A piece of Loulan jade and a string of strange deaths synchronized around the world drag geologist Lin Jian, detective Xu Yan, photographer Chen Feiyu and linguist Elena into a race that transcends cognition. They discovered that they were the chosen "Five Color Messengers". The opponent is a top-notch wealthy group that wants to live forever on the ruins of civilization. The countdown has begun: the "time wound" that allows myth to seep into reality must be repaired on the day of the Seven Stars 43 days later. From Lop Nur to Kailash, from the Antarctic ice cap to the bottom of Bermuda, this is a battle for civilization to mend the sky across seven major nodes. What they want to repair is not only the cracks in time and space, but also the final bottom line of human nature in the face of divine power.