Lu Jiangxian had a very long dream. He dreamed of planting rice in the fields, he dreamed of swords and shadows, he dreamed of immortal sects, women, and a large lake.,In the violently rolling viewpoint, he flew over the small, yellowish village and smoke like a light swallow, passing above the clear river.,Deep within Lu Jiangxian's heart, a surge of curiosity and joy arose. That sliver of lunar halo seemed to have gathered enough strength, drifting down onto him.。