"Deceiving oneself? What do you mean?"
Xiao Lingqiu was utterly perplexed by the elderly woman's words.
Becoming an Immortal was the ultimate dream of countless cultivators. How could it sound so disdainful coming from the old woman's mouth?
Carrying a tombstone on her back, the elderly woman chuckled grimly. Her clouded eyes drifted toward the dim and weathered window. She seemed to be muttering to herself, saying:
"To pursue it all your life and finally achieve what you desired, only to discover it was all a lie—how pitiful. You and I, we are both pitiful souls."
"Are you saying... there are no Immortals at all?"
Xiao Lingqiu's beautiful eyes widened in shock.
It was at this moment that Jiang Shouzhong awoke suddenly.
"What's going on?"
He rubbed his aching head, glancing around in confusion.
