Three Feet and Three Immortal Bones

In this world, there are graves everywhere, but there is not even a person who can write on them. Immortals are refining elixirs in the clouds, while mortals are enduring their lives on the ground. Before my mother died, she took her last breath and died in the long river of time for me - in exchange for me living one more night. Just this night. I gritted my teeth and came to life. They used me as firewood, drying out my skin and hardening my bones, but they could not burn my heart to death. Every blood debt in the red ledger is engraved in my soul. They thought I had resigned myself to my fate, but actually I was counting—counting how many lives this world owed me. Later, I realized that there is no difference between immortals and mortals. It's just that the immortals thought it was ugly to eat and look ugly, so they trapped us into breathing stoves. Just throw them away after practicing, not even bothering to bury the bones. I just want to live. When you live long enough to return to your mother, kneel down, kowtow to her, and tell her: I have earned the breath you gave your life for. Then - let her have sex with you. This world eats people, so I will chew up the world and swallow it.