The sound of muttering reached his ears. Then Lin Xuan flicked his sleeve, spiritual light flashed, and dozens of streaks of sword-light swam out from within like fish.
"Go!"
Lin Xuan pointed forward. The sword-lights fell in a flurry like rain, wheeling and rising, diving and weaving. In no more than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Lin Xuan had opened up a cultivation cave.
Its area was not very broad; it could even be called extremely simple. Lin Xuan had no intention of staying here long. It was merely a temporary residence, a place to take stock of the treasures he had obtained this time.
Ever since Lin Xuan had stepped onto the path of immortal cultivation, he had weathered more bloody storms than could be counted. Yet fortune leaned on disaster, and disaster hid fortune within it; behind every danger, there had also been an enormous opportunity concealed.
The result of scraping past death often meant gaining a great many treasures.
For Lin Xuan to have advanced his cultivation to such a point in a mere two thousand-plus years, and to possess abilities far from ordinary, greatly surpassing cultivators of the same rank, naturally was not due to luck alone. It was inseparable from the many risks he had taken and the countless temperings of life and death he had experienced.
If one wanted great harvests, one inevitably had to pay a great price. The saying that the Heavenly Dao rewarded diligence applied just as well in the cultivation world.
However, although Lin Xuan had endured much tempering, none of his previous gains could compare with this journey to Misty Immortal Palace.
From disguising himself as a mortal martial artist to infiltrate that sect, to slaying Taowu several days ago, the treasures Lin Xuan