Wu Siliu

You won't understand it before you want to understand it.
After living with the old cripple for eighteen years, Shu Guan discovered that cultivation was actually a simple matter.
On the azure sea, a massive fleet of steel ships sailed against the wind and waves. Beneath the deep sea, a giant dragon opened its golden eyes and coldly looked up. 
Fighter jets roared, cutting through the clouds. Ahead, a large wing descended from the clouds, and a crane cried out in the vast sky. 
On the battlefield, artillery fire filled the sky, bullets flew, and amidst it all, sword energy could be faintly heard. 
This is a world where technology has risen, yet myths have not dissipated. 
The path to immortality has been severed, leaving only a solitary figure walking alone.

I Came From The Xanadu

Li Zhixia looked at Shu Guan, his expression serious and stern.


Of course, Shu Guan by now had some understanding of Li Zhixia, knowing that the master was not unsatisfied with him, but was simply born with such a cold and distant face.


Li Zhixia pondered for a moment, then said something.


"You are the eighth disciple I've taken in."


Senior Mu had said that Master Li Zhixia had only seven disciples. And considering the special circumstances of the eldest disciple, he shouldn't count as a true disciple, right?


Then Li Zhixia said something else once again.


There was a flash of remembrance and pain in the eyes of the purple-robed middle-aged Daoist.


Shu Guan's expression also became somewhat serious, but he dared not ask how those two former fellow disciples, or perhaps sisters, had died.


Chapter 11: Struck by Thunder