While all beings seek the Dao beyond themselves, he alone takes up his brush to paint the heart.
In an age of chaos, cultivators fight endlessly over opportunities and treasures. Only the painter Mo Qingyun walks the world alone, observing himself through ink and brush and tempering his heart amid the mortal world.
Strength is not measured by one's level of cultivation, but by the clarity of one's heart. A heart clinging to obsession makes even the finest paper and brushes ordinary; a heart free of dust can bring peace to the land with plain paper and a worn-out brush.
The story unfolds along two parallel paths, one still and one in motion: he sits alone in the mountains, composing himself as he paints, while the outside world is rife with slaughter and chaos.
From his first lessons in the wilderness, to experiencing every side of life in the mortal world, to merging his heart with Heaven and Earth, and finally facing a cataclysm, he steadies the universe with a single stroke.
The world copies his paintings and pursues his Dao, yet no one understands that the source of the Great Dao has always lain within one's own heart.