Qiu Feiyi looked up towards that direction, muttering "Penglai Island" several times in his heart, and gripped his Thunderbolt Spear even tighter. The East Sea's Penglai was a spiritual land, and the aura within the sect seemed naturally formed. He had tirelessly cultivated martial arts since childhood, and ever since learning about Penglai Island, he had never stopped yearning to cultivate there.
From initial admiration, to later jealousy and resentment.
Originally, he had advanced all the way to the realm of a Fourth Rank Grandmaster like a hot knife through butter in his cultivation, but in the end, that gate stood before him, blocking him for a full thirty years despite his desperate efforts to cultivate, despite his furious rage; that gate showed no sign of opening even a crack.
Vaguely, year by year, it only seemed more daunting.
