Penglai, Mirage Mountain.
At the same time as the Southern Sea Ancestor Wu Chao was being slashed to lose a thousand years of cultivation, a similarly dressed middle-aged Taoist had arrived at the Eastern Sea Penglai Upper Sect.
Dressed in a dark green Taoist robe, simple and ancient.
However, this middle-aged man was more handsome and stalwart, and although his face was equally expressionless, he carried a high-cold and vicissitudinal temperament.
He stood in Daoist Cang Sheng's cave dwelling, facing the Penglai Sect Leader, his gaze sharp.
"Yang Buwei?" Daoist Cang Sheng looked at this unexpected guest, his gaze somewhat hesitant, "You've changed too much."
"Stay in that kind of hell for a hundred years, and you'll change a lot too." The middle-aged Taoist known as Yang Buwei replied indifferently.
"You showing up here must be because of the failure of that matter, right?" Daoist Cang Sheng asked.
