After bidding farewell to the Xu siblings, Lin Xuan continued on his way.
After venturing roughly three hundred li into the Hundred Thousand Mountains, traces of cultivators gradually became scarce.
This place was no longer very safe; high-level demon beasts often appeared here.
Back then, Li Yaotian had also lost his way and stumbled into this place by accident. Even with Lin Xuan's current abilities and cultivation, he did not dare be the slightest bit careless. He spread his divine sense to its fullest, guarding against any danger that might appear.
Just like that, after flying for another half a day, Lin Xuan stopped in front of an unremarkable little mountain.
Jagged rocks stood everywhere here, and the environment was extremely harsh. Quite a few withered yellow branches and fallen leaves were scattered across the ground, and even the mountain itself was bare and bald. As far as the eye could see, all was desolation.
Even if someone occasionally passed by, they would never pay it any attention. Yet joy stirred in Lin Xuan's heart. He turned his head and sized up the surroundings. This was the place.
He stepped toward the little mountain, but suddenly his feet halted, and a trace of astonishment flashed across his face.
He lowered his head. Beneath his feet was a heap of withered yellow grass. Lin Xuan flicked his sleeve, and with a flash of white light, swept the excess debris to one side. A set of remains appeared before him.
"This is..."
It was not as if Lin Xuan had never seen a corpse. Ever since stepping onto the path of immortality, he had personally slain no fewer than a hundred cultivators. What shocked him was not the body before him, but the clothing on the remains.
It was clearly not that