Illustrated Book of Ten Thousand Immortals by Immortal Cultivators Here

A coin in his mouth calmed his soul, and a curtain of copper coins covered all the worldly connections. Qi Xuanjin woke up in the gap between the three realms of the hospital room, the flame world, and the fantasy world. The white coat covered the scars of the blue shirt, and the eyepatch covered the unhealed scars. He couldn't tell whether he was Bai Yanqiu, a patient struggling to survive, or Qi Xuanjin, a cultivator who was burdened with disasters. Chu Mengqianqiu's slips hide his plans, Titan Yog's playfulness turns things upside down, Zgurmoluhkatos gnaws at the sun and moon wheels, and the Red Boss's calculations reveal the ups and downs of the three realms. The hanging bottle is ticking as a curse, the blood robe is stained with frost and snow, silk threads are wrapped around the hip bones, and every step is crushing the quicksand of illusion. Three figures stacked up into shackles, and the doors of the three realms opened and closed randomly. Is madness trapped in this body, or is wakefulness the biggest shackles? Is this madness in the immortal journey the soul in the game, or the chess player? Let's listen to the song "Jin Yan" and go through this catastrophe where it's hard to distinguish between true and false.