After bidding farewell to the shepherd boy, Shen Yun and the others set off once more, heading toward the legendary Three Immortals Mountain.
As soon as they entered the mountain path, the sky dimmed slightly.
Ancient trees blotted out the sky and sun, their trunks and branches twisted together. No one knew how many tens of thousands of years they had grown—even their roots coiled up from the ground.
A spirit deer poked its head out from the undergrowth. Its round eyes quietly regarded the newcomers, and it did not flee. Only after a long while did it leisurely vanish into the deep forest.
As they continued onward, the ancient trees gradually thinned, revealing a winding path of blue stone.
"Let's go up and have a look."
The three followed the path. The surroundings were silent, save for the faint rustle of wind passing through the forest canopy.
With their cultivation, ten million li were no more than a stone's throw. After a moment, they had already reached the end of the ancient road.
Yet there was no cave abode before them, only an ancient platform. Its surface had weathered and flaked away, and even the carved Eight Trigrams patterns had grown indistinct. It had clearly stood there for countless years.
Shen Yun's gaze shifted slightly, settling on a line of writing beside the platform.
The characters were mottled, yet still legible—
"I sat in meditation for two thousand years, yet in the end failed to obtain immortal fortune. What a pity, what a pity."
It seemed that some ancient cultivator, having heard the legend of Three Immortals Mountain, had come here to bitterly await his chance, only to leave empty-handed.
Shen Qingruo gazed at the line and said softly, "After searching for two thousand years without discovering Three Immortals