Haven't you seen, on the shores of the sea of bitterness, the Yellow Court holding the scroll, white bones scattered like smoke.
The pursuit of the Dao is hard, with many divergent paths, how many from ancient times have become Immortals?
A thousand ages of white clouds drifting aimlessly, things change and stars shift, autumn returns again and again.
Looking back, a hundred years of sorrow, only this person stands at the pinnacle, who among the heroes of the world can challenge them?
Three Corpses, Three Corpses, the foremost in the Daoist Sect.
Above the azure sky, the bright moon hangs high, all directions are silent.
All eyes fall upon that mysterious Primordial Spirit, ears ringing with an unspeakable name, suddenly, inexplicable horror, disbelief.
Three Corpses, this name is extraordinary.
