Three years ago, he established his foundation at the age of fifteen. He was a rare genius in Qingyun City for a century. The elder of the Xuanming Sect personally poured wine for him and allowed him to enter the inner gate directly. If it weren't for that weird beast wave, if it wasn't for saving the girl who rolled down the cliff...
He staggered to his feet and pulled out the broken sword from the pool of blood. The crowd parted ways as if they were avoiding the plague. There was pity, ridicule in those eyes, but mostly joy - the genius who once looked up to fell into the quagmire, which always satisfies the gloom of the spectators the most.
The rain began to fall, washing away the blood on the martial arts field, but it could not wash away the cruelty that filled the air.
Lin Feng dragged himself towards the mass grave outside the city. Three years ago, he crawled back from the abyss, his cultivation was completely ruined, the Lin family fell into decline, and his parents died in depression. Now he can hardly afford to live in that dilapidated temple outside the city - Miao Zhu morning issued an ultimatum that if he couldn't pay for the incense, he would throw out his tattered luggage tomorrow.
