Yang Lingrui walked silently through the wind and sand.
He did not know how far he had already gone, nor how much farther he still had to go, but he knew he could not stop.
For the vast majority of people, such an experience would undoubtedly be dreadful and agonizing.
Yet for Yang Lingrui, his state of mind at this moment had found a long-lost tranquility.
Other than the mournful whistling of wind sweeping through the sand, nothing could be heard here.
That repetitive, monotonous sound reminded Yang Lingrui of the tedium and dullness of cultivation.
It also made him miss those distant days when he had first set foot upon the path of the Dao.
Back then, there had been three meditation cushions beneath the Immortal Venerable. Brother Hu and Sister Qing had always given him the middle seat.
And when he had successfully achieved Dao Entry, they had surrounded him, cheering and celebrating.
Those days could be called the easiest and happiest time of Yang Lingrui's life.
Later came the struggle for resources, the ancestor's departure, and the rising tide of the age...
The heavy burden of supporting the Lineage soon fell upon the shoulders of the three young ones.
Sister Qing managed the affairs of the household, while Brother Hu bore the weight of external matters. This allowed him to devote himself wholly to cultivating his realm, free from the burdens of worldly affairs.
"Ling Rui~"
Just then, a familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar voice came from behind him, drawing Yang Lingrui's thoughts out of his memories.
"Brother Hu!"
Yang Linghu's voice made Yang Lingrui pause in surprise, but it did not stop his forward steps.
"Ling Rui, come over quickly!"
Yang Linghu's call rang out again from behind him.
Though he knew perfectly well that it was