The mountains are all ink-colored.

The ancient Buddha's head was stolen by a monster with a human body and a sheep's head. 
The Ghost buried an eye in the Buddha's temple, and from then on, the world's fire was extinguished, and darkness engulfed the continent.
To combat the Ghost' invasion, the gods of day and night were born between heaven and earth.
This is a narrative passed down for generations by storytellers.
What was the true nature of the ancient Buddha, the Ghost, and the wandering gods of day and night on the once great continent?
Perhaps, traces can be found in a troupe named 'Zhou Family Troupe.'
The Zhou Family Troupe,
is a troupe that performs operas specifically for the dead...

Wandering Gods of Day and Night

Zhou Xuan carefully observed his own eyes in the rearview mirror, but didn't notice too much of a change.


The eye sockets were well-defined, the whites of his eyes were white, the pupils dark, and looking closely, there was a hint of clarity.


There was no change in the curvature of the outer corners of his eyes.


"Sure, they're pretty, but it's not that exaggerated..." Zhou Xuan wondered if he had gotten used to his own handsomeness from looking in the mirror too often, whereas Li Shuangyi and Liu Jiaotian didn't pay much attention to him usually. Perhaps that occasional earnest glance simply left them dazzled.


"I guess I've been looking at myself in the mirror too much and inflicted aesthetic fatigue on myself~~"


Originally, he wouldn't have minded basking in his own beauty, but Zhou Xuan had one good trait—he liked to ponder aimlessly on his own.


Delving deeper into his thoughts, he felt the idea of "aesthetic fatigue" was far-fetched.


Chapter 33 Snow Temple