The Ups and Downs of Mo Zhi

Heaven and earth are paper, all living beings are characters, and destiny is ink. Su Zhuo was born in the most miserable place in the mortal world. His right eye was stained with a drop of Tianzun's blood. From then on, he could see the words between heaven and earth. He saw that everyone's life was hanging on their head, and that every cause and effect was entangled into a transparent thread. And above his own head, there was only one word written on it: death. The path to spiritual practice is difficult. Every time you go up a level, there is one less person. When he crossed the long river of cause and effect, climbed onto the lonely cliff of destiny, and finally reached the end of the world. There is a pen hanging there. The eternal sorrows of heaven and earth are all written by it. Su Zhuo reached out and held the pen. Ah Rou turns into a sharp edge, and ink stains the world. "This time, we don't paint from death, but from life."