Three Burnings and Seven Refinings

[Traditional Fantasy·Mortal Flow] Haocang two thousand seven hundred and fifty-four years. A cry rang out from the Wei clan, the hidden clan in the Zhehan Realm. The four images on each corner of the sky dimmed a bit at the same time. In an instant, the clouds rose and the natural vision revealed the birth of a "god-sent son". In the peaceful human realm, various forces are turbulent, and the hidden clan that appears in vain seems to be like a world-shaking thunder that breaks this situation, carrying an ancient will. Wei Shenchen's thirteen-year-old spirit was as if the world belonged to him alone, and there was a fire in his chest that wanted to burn out the obstacles in front of him. That night, he saw the outside world, suspended in the vast expanse of stars. Countless mysterious boats are floating, giant beasts are flying around the vast fairy city, huge cauldrons are flowing with aura, bringing bursts of glass color, and people are scurrying about the sky like mayflies in the sky and earth. This is their era... But they are not the only ones. ————— The moment Wei Shenchen fell off the cliff, his fate had been changed, and he was reunited in the "Tears of God" at the same time and space. A black mist in the soul spanned the distance that Wufa could not imagine, fighting between the sleepwalking gods. As soon as the ancient ring in his hand flashed, he was no longer him. Struggling in the mud, the world is ups and downs. Begging for food and begging for life, hanging his tail and wagging mercy, maybe he would have died at that time. Memory is alive but dead in the depths of a certain soul. At a certain moment when you are looking at old things and remembering something, it tries its best to come back to life and completes the mission given by God. That moment is unprecedentedly clear. He recalled his thirteen-year-old spirit and said he was not dead. Seven refinements of the world, burn! Burn! Burn! This is the Tao.