North Liao

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go. 
Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass. 
Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons. 
On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes. 
A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past. 
Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.

Journey to the End of the Night

"Although I must admit that, in certain respects, you kid can indeed be considered a little freak who can break the norm, you were able to draw the sword from its sheath without it recognizing a master. I imagine even our Sect Master would be shocked to learn of this.


But drawing a sword is one thing, that relies on luck and opportunity.


Cultivating the Spiritual Path requires that one-in-a-million talent, and not everyone might even touch that threshold.


You've merely dabbled superficially for ten days, and you think you can cultivate spiritual power? It's utterly fanciful.


If our Sect Master knew, he would certainly scold you for aiming too high. When cultivating a new domain, you should first solidify your foundational skills in your own field. You should know that biting off more than one can chew..."


Interrupting Jin Sheng's incessant chatter was a sound like a blade scraping across a wooden board.


Chapter 101: The Little Monster