Four Generations of Mortals Knocking on the Gate of Heaven

My name is Chen Mo, I am twenty-four years old, and I work as a fortune teller at a night market stall. One hexagram is three hundred, and it has not opened for three days. An old man squatted in front of me and said something. I looked down and saw a luminous gold thread on my wrist. Before I could figure out what was going on, I was being chased all over the street. I hid in an alley, raised my hand to block it, and a golden light erupted from my palm, cracking a crack in the brick wall. The old man said this is called psychic energy. Call me "Tianshu". It is said that there is a door three thousand meters underground in Laoshan Mountain, which has been buried for two thousand years. The first Tianshu walked in but didn't come out, and the last one walked in and didn't come out either. Now it's my turn. I'm looking for that door. The door is looking for me too. I haven't decided yet whether to push it away. But I'm already in front of it.