Urban Legend: The Strongest Immortal Cultivator in History

It was already March, and more than twenty days had passed since the Beginning of Spring, one of the twenty-four solar terms of Huaxia, yet the days remained bitterly cold, with not a trace of vibrant spring in the air. In Changnan City, where the weather swung unpredictably between chill and warmth, it was hard to tell whether it was winter or spring. Under such "seasons," outsiders found it nearly impossible to say what time of year it was. Locals, having prematurely shed their down coats, found themselves digging them out again, donning and doffing them repeatedly, caught in an endless cycle. The fickle climate, combined with the change of seasons, made it easy to catch a cold, and with flu season in full swing, the hospitals enjoyed a brisk business.

After the Spring Festival, it rained for over a month without pause, as though the heavens cared nothing for the old saying, "Spring rain is as precious as oil." Sunshine became a rare luxury for the people of Changnan. The local climate, being damp by nature, meant the sun was absent for days on end, and freshly washed clothes refused to dry. Even those with ample wardrobes found themselves running out of things to wear; only the wealthier families, who could afford to buy clothes dryers, were spared the expense of buying extra garments. The locals had long grown used to this peculiarity, but for newcomers, unless they had endured three or five years in the city, the adjustment was a real trial.

Changnan City's Economic Development Zone lay not far away. Over sixty miles to the west,