Thinking that the Second-Turn Loose Immortal's secluded cultivation grounds would be heavily guarded by formations, he never expected it to be in a seemingly ordinary valley where even spiritual energy was sparse.
In such a place, ordinary cultivators would deliberately give it a wide berth, just as mortals would avoid a place full of filth and foulness.
There was a small stream in the valley, and beside it sat an old man with white hair and a white beard, holding a bamboo fishing rod as if fishing.
Chapter 437