There Is No Immortal in the World Anymore. When You See Me, You Should Kowtow.

When I woke up, the world was turned upside down. There is no trace of the legendary immortals and Buddhas. The gods and Buddhas in the sky are all weird and crazy evil existences that eat meat and drink blood. Every word in the so-called book of scriptures is a reminder of life. One wrong step will cause the body to die and the Tao to disappear, turning into withered bones in the process of cultivation. This is a desperate era in which spiritual practice requires a heavy price and human lives are like a piece of grass. The true king thirsts for the blood of living beings, Maitreya laughs and chews mortal flesh, and demons and ghosts roam the world, weaving bizarre and terrifying legends. Many years later, the blood moon was in the sky, and everything was strange and strange. He was wearing a blood-stained Tai Chi robe, holding a rusty but evil ancient sword in his hand, and under his feet was a futon made of the flesh and blood of gods and demons. He looked up at the twisted and weird "gods and Buddhas" in the hall. The corner of Ye Wushuang's mouth raised slightly, and a faint but cold smile appeared, shaking the sky: "There are no good immortals or compassionate Buddhas here." "Now that you've seen your true self, why don't you kneel down?"