Mo Cang watched your cultivation advance at a breathtaking pace, and every day he would stroke his beard and laugh heartily, saying that you truly had the makings of a Demonic Cultivator.
Although Mo Cang was a Demonic Cultivator, he had never slaughtered innocents indiscriminately. In Mo Cang's words, Demonic Cultivators who stopped at nothing for power were not Demonic Cultivators at all—they were Madmen.
People like that were simply unworthy of being Demonic Cultivators. Demonic Cultivators were open and aboveboard, daring to act and daring to take responsibility; they merely walked a different road.
You cultivated under Mo Cang for six years. Over those six years, your cultivation reached the peak of the Golden Core realm. Mo Cang had not lied to you—you reached the Golden Core realm in three years, only to remain trapped within it for another three.
As you gradually grew up, your body became increasingly tall and straight. But your greatest flaw was that you were missing an arm.
Your parents had also been looking for you. The young people in the village who were your age already had children old enough to run errands.
Every day, your parents arranged marriage proposals for you, but you refused them all, because you were waiting for the most important person in your heart.
Seeing you like this, your parents secretly cursed you for being a fool. Mo Zhu was already an immortal high above the clouds—how could she possibly like a one-armed mortal?
But you did not see it that way. Eighteen years of feelings were not something that could simply scatter to the winds.
A few days later, Mo Cang told you that he was leaving. His cultivation had already reached the pinnacle of this world, and he needed to seek his own Dao.
To seek