Outside the Qingyun Sect's mountain gate, clouds and mist shrouded.
Lin Xiu was dressed in white, standing with his hands behind his back, looking at the familiar sect plaque in front of him, with a faint smile on his lips.
Three years.
Three years ago, he was just an inconspicuous handyman disciple of the Qingyun Sect's outer sect. He had mediocre qualifications and low cultivation. He was ridiculed by his fellow disciples and ignored by the elders. In an accident, he got a simple ring, which actually contained the remnant soul of an ancient immortal.
