Chen Xuan, a native of Blue Star, transmigrated to another world with a panel.
Ten years later, he stood at the pinnacle of martial arts.
But after that, he discovered that his golden finger no longer seemed to work.
Then, after an utterly ordinary night, he woke up and realized he seemed to have transmigrated again.
This time, though, he was an old man over sixty, with one foot in the grave. A twenty-five-year-old had turned into a sixty-year-old in an instant. The sky was falling!
Then he suddenly discovered that his golden finger was responding again, and that the legendary cultivators had appeared.
But martial artists had become the servants and lackeys of cultivators, and the martial path was cut off.
That wouldn’t do. Chen Xuan decided to forge a path of his own. The martial arts path was a path too.
Many years later, Chen Xuan looked at the panel, where every cultivation technique had reached its maximum level. He clenched his fist, grinned at the immortal before him, and said, “If I land this punch, you might die.”
Still good
Not bad, come on