The mountains are green and the clouds are like veil.
An ancient sect stands quietly on the top of a green mountain, with palaces scattered among the trees. The mountain breeze blows through the valley, the birds chirp crisply, and the beautiful air is everywhere. At a glance, you can tell that it is an excellent place to practice Qingxiu.
But at this moment, the atmosphere at the top of Qingyun Peak was not peaceful at all.
"Lin Qingxuan, it's been three years and you can't even practice basic sword techniques. Are you worthy of being called a sword cultivator?"
An angry shout caused the surrounding cranes to flutter their wings and fly away. The elder with shaggy hair and beard pointed at the young man below, his face full of hatred that iron cannot become steel.
Lin Qingxuan was stunned on the spot, his mind went blank.
The old man is calling me?
He subconsciously raised his hands, and what he saw was a pair of well-jointed, but slightly thin, young hands. They were rough and calloused. They were definitely not his hands that had been doing manual work all year round.
Unfamiliar ancient robes, the majestic Qingshan Sect, and the staring elders blowing their beards...
Countless fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded into his mind - Qingyun Sect, outer disciples, Lin Qingxuan, born with blocked meridians, unable to practice a sword in three years, and became the laughing stock of the entire sect.
Traveled through time?
