Heavenly Master Who Commands Fate

Before my grandfather died, he left me three things: a bronze ruler broken in two, half a burned copy of The Book of Burial, its ending reduced to ashes, and a final message. “Your birth chart is too weak. You won't live past twenty-four. If you want to extend your life, go to Changbai Mountain and find a pine tree growing northward. There'll be a coffin buried beneath it. Lie inside and sleep. If you wake up, you'll live. If you don't... Grandpa will be waiting for you below.” That year, I was twenty-three years and eleven months old. I thought my grandfather had gone senile. But when I opened the half-burned Book of Burial, I saw a line of small characters written in blood on the title page: “My grandson's fate lies outside the Three Realms and beyond the Five Elements. Only the method of suppressing fate can prolong his failing life.” I decided to go to Changbai Mountain. Not to save my life, but because I wanted to find out what I really was. I learned later that the coffin had been left there for me specifically. And these eyes of mine were never meant to see the living, not from the day I was born.