After eating and drinking his fill, Zhang Xiaohao stood up from the chair, not rushing to cultivate. He turned and walked out of the room, standing at the bow of the spirit boat, facing the wind between the sky and feeling the beauty of nature, gazing at everything in the sky.
With a flip of his right hand, he took out a giant panda cigarette, pinching it between his two fingers. A golden flame appeared at his fingertips, lighting the cigarette. Squinting, he began to smoke, a stream of smoke continuously flowing from Zhang Xiaohao's mouth.
Recalling the past.
On Earth, flying was everyone's ultimate dream.
Everyone wanted to travel the world freely, like a bird, without relying on external objects.
However, the spiritual energy on Earth was really too scarce. Although one could cultivate, the realm was too low. Just like Zhang Xiaohao on Earth, even having reached the pinnacle of cultivation, flying required transformation.
