Chu Huaiyuan, a useless member of the Chu family, was thirty years old and in the early stages of foundation building. He spent ten years mopping the floor of the Sutra Pavilion.
Until he found a line of altered words in the interlayer of an ancient book: "The immortal caressed my head and tied my hair to receive immortality. The giver is no longer a human being, and the recipient is not me."
Three thousand years have passed, and forty-two people have ascended to the Xuanhuang Realm, but no one has returned. Because ascension is not immortality, it is slaughter.
The upper realm monks keep the lower realm in captivity like a pasture, the sect is the fence, the exercises are the feed, and the heavenly calamity is the quality inspection. Every three years, a Tao seed is harvested and skinned alive from the ascended person's body.
And his father, Chu Changgeng, the current head of the family, personally killed his mother, personally erased his grandfather's name from the dedication list, and replaced it with his own.
"Stop checking," his father said.
"My mother asked me to check." He replied.
A handyman of the Sutra Pavilion, using scrap wood to build the foundation, a borrowed sword, and a fragment of a book that had been put together for three years. What he wants to overturn is a slaughterhouse that has been in operation for three thousand years.
"Ascension is death. Reincarnation is freedom."
"Mu Dao, I want Mu Tian."
You see, the immortal is caressing people's heads again. This time, someone is going to get married and live forever.
