Spring passed and autumn arrived.
Chu Ning's thirty years of life.
Before he knew it, more than a year had passed since Chu Ning arrived at the Xiyue Sect.
It was the most peaceful and comfortable year Chu Ning had ever had.
"No wonder so many cultivators want to join a large sect, being part of a big sect is great, ensuring a harvest regardless of rain or drought and with no risk to their lives."
Chu Ning leaned his head against a small mound, watching the sky full of red twilight.
In the span of a year, the small mound, originally the size of a fist, had quintupled in size and was now roughly as big as a pillow.
For Chu Ning, this past year indeed had been very comfortable, the most pleasant year since he had transversed into this world.
Back in Daning County, he had to change his own lowly fate by practicing martial arts diligently.
Later, after encountering the upheaval of the Wushuang Sect, he began his escape.