Let the Wind Rise, and Seek the Hanging Mountain

“The wind is rising…” I murmured, watching the winds, clouds, and thunder shift along the horizon. Ink-dark clouds churned and twisted like snarling beasts. The howling gale seemed ready to sweep everything in the world into chaos. As the wind and clouds surged, a blinding bolt of lightning suddenly struck straight toward me. I instinctively shut my eyes, only to feel an irresistible force yank me violently away as my consciousness plunged into darkness.

When I came to, I found myself in a strange place. The sky was as blue as a gemstone, and wisps of spiritual energy drifted through the air like a dream. I was startled to discover that I could freely control the surging sword qi within me and use sword techniques at will. That’s right, I had transmigrated and become a sword immortal.

One obsession had always haunted me: finding the Hanging Mountain. But when I asked the surrounding cultivators about it, they all looked utterly bewildered, as if it were a place that existed only in my imagination. Just as I was sinking into despair, I heard astonishing news: there was a place in this world that knew everything and could do anything, the Thirty-Third Heaven. I died thirty-three times in front of the mountain and shouted “Hanging Mountain” thirty-three times.