After Living for Hundreds of Millions of Years, I'm Invincible with a Flick of My Finger

Snow always falls earlier at the Qingyun Sect than anywhere else.

Beneath an ancient pine in the forbidden grounds behind the mountain, Lin Xuan grips a bamboo broom and sweeps the snow. The broom's tip brushes through the cracks between the stone slabs with a soft, rustling sound. He sweeps very slowly, as if every snowflake deserves a closer look. In truth, it does. After a hundred thousand years, he has long since learned to savor the passage of time through the cycles of the seasons.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.