Autistic Painter, I Eat My Soul with My Paintings

My name is Qin Gumo. I grew up alone in a cold orphanage without a father or mother. I have a withdrawn and autistic personality, and I am not good at speaking. I am often ignored and bullied by others. All the excitement in the world has nothing to do with me. Only a pen and ink in my hand was my only comfort and support during the long years of loneliness. The spiritual energy suddenly revived, and the ancient rebellious false gods who had been dusted for eternity were broken and born one after another. The cold shadow of the god shrouded the city, and the terrifying power of the god crushed the mortal world. All the people in the world knelt down and surrendered, begging for mercy in fear, and fearing the false gods who brought trouble to the world. But no one knew that this lonely young man who was taciturn and bullied was the reincarnation of the orthodox true god of ancient painting. In ancient times, a group of gods had selfish desires and betrayed heaven, causing chaos all over the world. In my previous life, I went out alone to suppress thousands of rebel gods, but the gods teamed up to plot against me. My soul was shattered, the avenue was sealed, and I fell into the mortal world and reincarnated for hundreds of lifetimes. The Thirteen Mirrors of Painting are hidden deep in the soul, and they are awakened layer by layer in desperate situations. I use my soul as my ink, my heaven and earth as my paper, and draw my divine weapons with my pen. The ink falls to destroy illusions, and I condense my spirit to quell evil spirits. Others bow their heads and worship false gods, but I hold on to my paintings and kill the heavens. He has endured all the warmth and coldness of the human world, and has seen through the vanity of the gods. He was born lonely, but he is proud and unyielding. I don't worship heaven and earth, I don't kneel down and rebel against God, I don't ask for opportunities, and I don't rely on foreign aid. He endured and lurked all the way, tempered his body into gold in a desperate situation, forged the Hongmeng Tao body, used the orthodox painting of the origin of Tao, swallowed up the rebellious gods, and used the way of gods to backfire on the gods. Holding a pen can draw mountains and rivers, lifting a pen can determine life and death. Even if all the people in the world surrender, even if all the false gods from heaven come to the world, I only have a piece of painting, walking alone with silent ink, to cut off all the falsehoods in the world, and keep peace in the world for all eternity.