The Record of Deception and Profit

My name is Pan Gu. In the mountains, an old man with his body half buried in the soil and his flesh almost rotting into dry wood picked me up. He never taught me how to live in the world. He only taught me three skills: Paint skin, observe bones, and swallow accounts. He said: "This world is a black pot. Boil all the people, ghosts and gods in the pot into a pot of soup and drink it without leaving a drop." I did. People stabbed me, ghosts gnawed at me, and even the "righteous god" whom I held on the altar with my own hands trampled on my spine. They chop wood and make fires. When I opened my eyes again, there was chaos under my feet that could even chew up light. Countless evil spirits rushed towards me. I didn't hide, and got in along their greedy throats. When I tear this world apart again, it will no longer be what it was before. There was only a sneer coming from the void, like talking to himself or pronouncing a sentence: "It's time to take care of this plate."