Tang Ling was in a foul mood, too lazy even to check her phone, and walked straight down the mountain path.
It had been fourteen years since she arrived at the Sword Tomb, with fifty-six years ahead of her destined to remain here.
Back then, her great-grandfather had sold her to this godforsaken place in order to pursue a breakthrough in Rank—sold for a full twenty years. Later, when he descended into madness and slaughtered his clansmen and fellow disciples, the debt deepened, extending her sentence to sixty years.
Though the Sword Tomb was hailed as a holy land for the Sword Sect Path worldwide, she simply didn't like it.
The people here were dull, every single one cold and unapproachable, like a block of stone.
It was the twenty-first century, yet they lived like people from ancient times.
No entertainment, no life.
Day after day, they sat cross-legged in meditation, eyes closed.
And then came sword training.
Endless, ceaseless sword training.
