An Old Steed Still Yearns to Scale the Immortal Gates

He lived to a hundred, waiting for an answer.

Seventy-five years ago, cultivators descended from the heavens. With a wave of their hands, thunder and fire rained down, wiping out more than three hundred members of the Lin family. He was twenty-five that year, a martial arts prodigy who had lived in luxury. In a single night, he became a wandering ghost. He traveled far and wide, seeking immortality for more than seventy years. Nearly ready to give up, he found a village where he could spend his final days.

Then, in the year he turned one hundred, an immortal sect's spirit-seeking compass discovered that he possessed a one-in-ten-thousand Thunder Spirit Root.

“At a hundred years old, his vitality is depleted and he has less than five years to live.”

The immortal sect abandoned him in the desolate Luoshen Valley, leaving him to fend for himself. But beneath the snow, he found a small, pitch-black cauldron. It could transform things: ordinary water became a spring of spiritual water, and ordinary pills became treasures.

His path to immortality had begun a century late. But a Thunder Spirit Root, however late, was still a Thunder Spirit Root.

An old steed may be stabled, yet its heart yearns for a thousand miles. In his hundred-year-old body, he would carve a path that led all the way to the clouds.