Mortals Are Unyielding

When Chen Mo was twelve years old, he collapsed from hunger at the gate of Yunlai Temple. The old monk brought out a bowl of gruel, and he survived. He has no talent - five spiritual roots, each one as thin as a gossamer. There is no background, no resources, and the only opportunity is just a piece of broken gold silk in a crack in the wall of a ruined temple. The "Returning Method" recorded on it is not even a skill, it is just a stupid way to teach people inner vision. Others sneered, but Chen Mo felt like he had found a treasure. Three years of chopping firewood and three years of practicing boxing. Others practice the same movements a hundred times. If you don't have enough talent, you have to use your life to make up for it. If the meridians were narrow, he would grind them inch by inch until they widened. The golden elixir was difficult to condense, so he broke it and then condensed it, breaking the bottleneck forcefully. From body tempering to ascension, he walked for forty years. In forty years, he had been beaten, escaped with his life, and lost a brother. Jian Chi accepted him as his disciple, not because of his talent, but because of his willpower. Xuanyuan Qingqing regarded him as his opponent. What he admired was not his strength, but his unbeatable tenacity. The demon invaded, and he blocked the crack with his mortal body. Behind him are countless mortals, and in front of him is the darkness that engulfs the world. He pulled out the iron sword that had been with him for half his life. This sword is not for immortality or fame. Just for the sake of the people behind me, no longer going hungry. Mortals are unyielding and ask the sky. A bowl of porridge, a sword, and a road no one has traveled. ——Dedicated to all ordinary people who have no talent but never give up.