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Deep within the Deathless Tomb.
Sheng'er was yawning lazily, chin propped on one hand, listening to some long-winded god muttering on and on from within one of the countless coffins.
This had been going on for more than a year now.
And while the muttering had started out as vague nonsense, it had slowly become more…specific.
“Little girl,” the ancient voice rumbled, “you have an excellent natural aptitude for cultivating the Heaven Soul. If you begin training, you’ll break free of mortal limits and live for ten thousand years.”
“Oh, come on. I haven’t even started cultivating anything. Ten thousand years? Yeah, right. Yaaawn…” Sheng'er scoffed.
However, the elderly god droned on, unfazed. “That’s because you were born already standing at the threshold of the third rank. Ordinary people would have to sacrifice everything just to get where you are now.”
“You’re lying again, aren’t you?” Sheng'er frowned. “If I’m really that amazing, how come you didn’t have the Wolfmother do this training already? You gods can just make more jade...
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