I, the Only Martial Artist, Have Guarded Yangguan for Three Hundred Years.

At the pinnacle of martial arts, there is an iron law: the fewer companions, the wider the road. If you are the only one in the world who practices, one day of practice will be worth a hundred years of hard work. When the mark of time travel appeared on Chen Ping's arm, Chen Ping, who possessed the skills of two realms, suddenly realized that he had become the only traveler on the two roads to heaven. At this time, the immortal cultivators from the mythical world held the sun and moon in their hands, trampled the mountains and rivers, and came to the "Yangguan" city. Chen Ping walked into the desert alone. The lights of thousands of houses were gradually extinguished behind him, and his old friends in front of him were scattered like stars. Three hundred years passed by in a blink of an eye. The setting sun is like blood, staining the lonely city. Chen Ping sat alone at the pass and slowly slashed across the pass. There is no one behind him, and in front of him is a sea of ​​gods and goddesses. "On this road, I am the only one." "I will guard this level."