Ascension means harvest, the immortal path is a scam.
Su Changqing traveled through Tongbai Temple and became a handyman who couldn't even detect his spiritual roots. Others cultivated immortality by swallowing purple energy, but he relied on "copying" to cultivate immortality - copying broken stele, copying Taoist treasures, and exchanging lives for pen tips. Cost? The eyes are gradually going blind, and the lifespan is plummeting, but they are just ants seeking the truth.
Zhao Wuji sneered: "You ant, how dare you spy on the secrets of immortality?"
Su Changqing wiped away the nosebleed, raised his eyes and sneered: "Xian Ji? I am Xian Ji."
Don't rely on killing monsters, but write about the warmth and warmth of human beings. A market is built in the ruins, the sound of books nourishes the holy soul, and three hundred years of dedication turn into flowers. This is the story of a handyman who did not want to ascend, but pulled gods and Buddhas down from the altar and became saints in the human world.
The reason for writing this book is very simple: I am tired of the routine of "the protagonist awakens the golden finger → upgrades through jingle → steps on people and slaps them in the face → ascends to perfection".
Cultivation of immortality, what exactly is it?
If the end of ascension is another harvest, then what if we don't ascend?
Su Changqing has no great luck, no grandfather, and no peerless bones. All he has is a pair of eyes that can see flaws, and a road that is willing to risk his life to fill it. Every time you get stronger, you become weaker; every step you take, you become colder.
But he's walking.
This book will be slow. It's so slow that you might want to ask, "Why hasn't the fight started yet?" It's so slow that you might think, "Why is the protagonist still copying scriptures?" Because what I want to write about is never "how a waste turns into a god", but how a person pulls himself out of the soil inch by inch in a desperate situation.
Not ascending does not mean not living.
Not ascending does not mean not resisting.
You can become a saint without ascending.
Welcome to Tongbaiguan. The blood words here have just been written for the first time.
(P. S. If you think it's "ok" after reading this, please bookmark it and vote for recommendation. If you think it's "average" - please also bookmark it, because it will be more ruthless later.)
The reason for writing this book is very simple: I am tired of the routine of "the protagonist awakens the golden finger → upgrades through jingle → steps on people and slaps them in the face → ascends to perfection". Cultivation of immortality, what exactly is it? If the end of ascension is another harvest, then what if we don't ascend? Su Changqing has no great luck, no grandfather, and no peerless bones. All he has is a pair of eyes that can see flaws, and a road that is willing to risk his life to fill it. Every time you get stronger, you become weaker; every step you take, you become colder. But he's walking. This book will be slow. It's so slow that you might want to ask, "Why hasn't the fight started yet?" It's so slow that you might think, "Why is the protagonist still copying scriptures?" Because what I want to write about is never "how a waste turns into a god", but how a person pulls himself out of the soil inch by inch in a desperate situation. Not ascending does not mean not living. Not ascending does not mean not resisting. You can become a saint without ascending. Welcome to Tongbaiguan. The blood words here have just been written for the first time. (P. S. If you think it's "ok" after reading this, please bookmark it and vote for recommendation. If you think it's "average" - please also bookmark it, because it will be more ruthless later.)