Writing to Mend the Sky

My name is Qiyan, and I am recognized as a useless person by the Qingyun Sect. Because I can't practice any skills, even the most basic Qi-entraining technique, if it falls on me, it will be like rainwater sliding across the mirror, leaving no trace. They called me "The Son of God." It wasn't until the day of the sect's grand ceremony when they tied me to the altar that I realized that I was not a useless body, but a... Blank book. They want to erase my sanity and refine me into a "humanoid artifact" that can accommodate all kinds of magic and be used by them. Just when the soul-refining fire was lit, the junior sister Yu Yue, who had been dependent on me since childhood, smiled and looked at me for the last time, turned around, and jumped into the torrent of rules that burned everything for me. "Senior brother, please... Survive for me." Her figure shattered into billions of light spots in front of my eyes, scattering to the sky. At that moment, my blood burned in my veins for the first time, and my eyes saw the truth of this world clearly for the first time... The so-called mountain-protecting formation is just a piece of code full of loopholes. That superior sect master's cultivation is just a garbage program that keeps replicating itself. As for me, my anger made me reach out for the first time and hold the pen that was coagulated with my soul and her blood. I tore off the most core rule in their technique, "attacks must hit", and then, gently... Deleted it. "You all deserve to die."