You Niu Hong realized he was finding Tu Shan Jun harder and harder to understand.
He had thought Tu Shan Jun was merely putting on a show by tidying things up. He had not expected him to endure solitude so well, without a moment's slackening for an entire half month.
The design blueprint for the internal-combustion pill furnace hung high overhead.
There were no fewer than seven variations of artifact refinement alone.
Yet Tu Shan Jun still seemed dissatisfied, his brows remaining tightly furrowed.
Not until a full month had passed.
You Niu Hong finally could not hold it in any longer. "There's no use researching these things."
Tu Shan Jun, bent over his desk, cast You Niu Hong a faint glance.
You Niu Hong, wearing shackles and leaning against the steps, said, "To develop a power, you must pass down a lineage."
"Forge weapons and train cultivators."
"Those ordinary mortals would not understand even if you handed them an Imperial Scripture, while those with peerless talent could make rapid progress even with the crudest cultivation method."
"What the great tide needs are cultivators like that."
"Once they comprehend the true meaning and grasp what is real and what is illusory, they can stand on their own."
"These things of yours are all external objects—formation arrays, military formations, talismans and pills, colossal warships and flying vessels. They look powerful, but compared to cultivation, they are harder to operate and harder to control. One careless misstep, and they may even become another's wedding gown. Do you understand how to select cultivators, how to pick useful blades from the vast sea of people?"
Tu Shan Jun replied mildly, "You do?"
"I am the Grand Marshal of Taiji Heaven's Profound Yellow Great Origin, of course I know how to select sharp edges. That