Ember Tribulation: Record of Mortal Realm's Rebellion

Under the way of heaven, everything is firewood. Ling Jin is a mortal who doesn't even have spiritual roots. He has survived in Qingshi Town for twenty years. He originally thought that he would die silently like a weed in some unknown corner. Until that day, the villainous young man from the aristocratic family stepped on his face and said with a ferocious smile: "A trash from the Ling family is worthy of competing with me?" It wasn't until the kick shattered his ribs that something ignited the first fire in the ashes on his chest. The fire feeds on pain, uses luck as fuel, and uses memory as firewood. It taught him to plunder, to devour, and to grow from an ant into a ferocious beast. The old man in the teahouse gave him a bowl of tea and said, "You owe me three cents, and you have to pay it back." But before he could pay back the money, the teahouse was burned to ashes. The person who owed the debt died, and the way to collect the debt was cut off. All that was left was the fire in his chest that was getting stronger and stronger, and the debt that was getting heavier and heavier. There is a way of heaven in this world, and harvesting sentient beings is like cutting leeks. There is chaos, swallowing up order like a stubborn disease. There are those who apostatize, and they will fall into ashes ninety-eight times. Now, it's Ling Jin's turn - the ninety-ninth experiment, the last apostate. They all said that he would also fail this time. He would either become a new heaven, a new chaos, or... Die. Ling Jin took a sip of tea, but it was already cold. He said: "I'm not Heaven, I'm not Chaos, I'm not a hero, I'm not a devil." "I just want to pay back the three cents for tea, and by the way -" "Why do you decide what I should be?" This is a story about "what's wrong". Not a chess piece, not a fuel, not a part of the story