It is not easy to be a modern cultivator. Your breathing and exhalation are all car exhaust, and he is not an air filter.
He finally got a golden elixir, and his journey of spiritual practice had just begun. Little did he know that the thunder in the sky didn't have eyes, so it struck him dead.
I hid in the magic weapon in a daze, and finally woke up and got a physical body, only to realize that this was already the 28th century.
Robots are crawling all over the ground, and spaceships are flying all over the sky. It looks like green trees, but in fact the aura has mutated. He, a cultivator, can't even serve as an air filter now.
The story of the last cultivator on earth who travels to the future.
(Moderate cheating is good for physical and mental health. This article is warm and non-cruel, 1 to 1, and the protagonist suffers.)
Intention:
