Yang Qi had reached a psychic scale of forty billion, which was a feat that would cause anyone who learned of it to gasp in amazement. There were old-timers who had spent forty billion years working on their cultivation base without reaching that level.

Destiny was the foundation of everything. Not even tens of thousands of years of cultivation could compare to getting even the tiniest scrap of destiny.

It was similar to how, in the impure lands, an ordinary person might spend their entire life building up some wealth. But other people would take the imperial examinations, whereupon money would pour into their pockets without cease. In the end, there wasn’t any better way to get rich than becoming a government official.

Thanks to the immense destiny Yang Qi had access to, he was...

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