Foxtail pen

Li Huowang found himself teetering on the edge of reality, ensnared in a perplexing quandary. Was he languishing in the sterile confines of a hospital room, or was he ensnared in a cultivation world where survival was a daily gamble? 
The lines between the tangible and the imagined blurred, with each realm asserting its authenticity while dismissing the other as mere figments of illusion.
Embark on an odyssey with Li Huowang as he navigates through this enigmatic existence. Delve into a universe where the arcane arts of cultivators intertwine with the unspeakable terrors that lurk in the shadows. In this world, existence itself is a precarious balance.
Original Synopsis:
The Bizarre Path to the Heavens, 'Dao', a narrative woven with the surreal tapestry of Deities and Immortals. But what is truth, and what is mere fantasy? Amidst the maelstrom of his own harrowing ailment, Li Huowang grapples with discerning the real from the unreal. Yet, it is not just the enigma of these otherworldly beings that clouds his judgment; it is the specter of his own affliction, a malady that threatens to unravel the very fabric of his being.
He is sick, very seriously ill......

Abnormal Immortal Record of Spooky Daoist

"Creak, creak." The carriage wheels etched two narrow tracks into the ground.


Li Huowang sat on the front board of the carriage, lightly flicking the whip to urge the horses on, while Li Sui, clad in a straw raincoat, sat beside him, curiously peering at the sparrows on the tree branches through the newly hung black gauze beneath his bamboo hat.


Li Huowang tapped on the carriage. "Miaomiao, there's no need to stay inside every day, it's so stifling. It's dusk now; you can come out for some fresh air."


Bai Lingmiao lifted the carriage curtain and softly took a seat beside Li Huowang, removing the white gauze that covered her eyes and looking around her.


Observing her delicate profile, Li Huowang noticed that Bai Lingmiao seemed different. If her eyes were pink before, they had now turned pinkish-white.


What this implied was naturally self-evident.


Chapter 467: The Village