Know the White and Keep the Black

There is an ink line in Tianxuan Continent. The thread is alive, breathing, growing, snaking and crawling with the eyes of the world, splitting the world in half. On the line, it is called the right path. The seventy-two sects of Tianxuan League stand like a forest, their white clothes are whiter than the snow, and their swords soar into the sky. They say they protect the common people, they say they kill demons, and they say the light will last forever. The people looked up at the gilded plaque on the mountain gate, their eyes filled with pious light, that was their heaven! Offline, it's called the Demon Cult. The name is enough to convict. The sect in the shadows is rumored to be an evil ghost that drinks blood, eats flesh, and refines souls. When a child cries at night, the mother only needs to whisper, "The devil is coming," and the crying will stop abruptly. Fear is the best boundary marker. The ink lines were drawn so deeply that no one asked: Who drew the lines? What is the blend of ink? No one would think, what if the line itself is a lie? This story starts from the brightest side of the ink line. It starts with a mountain called "Qingfengmen", a six-year-old child named Lu Cheng, and an afternoon that should always be sunny. He didn't know at that time that some of the light was too dazzling, just to cover up the blood in the shadows. I don't know that what truly subverts the world is never the monstrous magic power, but the subtle, crisp cracking sound in the heart. The ink line will break. When one person fell into the abyss, he grabbed the other hand. That hand comes from the other end of the line.