"Haha! To decipher the world's rare texts, what a great joy in life, prepare the ink and brushes!"
Zhong Shenxiu picked up the Sky Blue Secret Scripture, his expression seemed a bit dazed for a moment, then he shouted loudly.
"Please, go ahead!"
Old Li respectfully spread out the paper beside him, as tendrils hovering between reality and illusion fell, gripping the inkstone and began grinding the ink.
Zhong Shenxiu seemed to turn a blind eye, picked up a fine brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write:
"Taishang Three Primals, behead the Dao to see myself..."
"These three primals, the Spirit is not this Spirit, this fate is not fate, but the three fires of man..."
...
Just as he reached a crucial point, Zhong Shenxiu's pen suddenly stopped.
Numerous tendrils suddenly went berserk, lashing Old Li incessantly.
