Kunpeng Sea.
This stretch of sea itself was home to quite a few cultivation islands.
There had already been no shortage of cultivators gathered here.
Several years had passed, yet this island had remained silent all this time.
Quite a few geniuses had entered it.
But even now, not a single person had ever been seen coming back out.
Thus, the outside world called this island a dragon's pool and tiger's den, a place of great calamity.
Yet strangely enough, some curious people had divined the fate of several who entered and found them brimming with vitality, their life force flourishing.
They had not encountered any great danger.
"Could it be that they were trapped inside?"
Someone who had traveled far and wide, visiting many places, put forth his own thought.
That did make sense.
Over the years, some ruins had never contained anything worthwhile to begin with.
Some predecessors had once been demonic cultivators. If they did not cheat others, that alone counted as ancestral virtue, a blessing earned only by burning incense and worshipping Buddha.
How could they possibly be kind enough to deliberately leave their cultivation inheritances or cultivation treasures for those who came after them?
It was impossible even to think about.
Yet to this day, many cultivators still watched the occasional movements of fortune coming from the island.
If that mass of fortune had not continued to drift and flow, they might have thought the island had long been dead.
But today—
Under clear skies and gentle winds, some cultivated while others ate, drank, and made merry.
Someone raised his gaze and abruptly saw a sight unlike anything before.
"Yeah, the island's fortune has actually stopped moving. What's going on?"
Fortune had always flowed like water; running water never rotted.
The same was true of