With a sigh, Wang Ye shot into the sky. As he passed the city wall, he grabbed Long-Ears, who had been hiding nearby, and vanished over the horizon.
"When all was said and done, you had suffered no less than Zhang Xiao."
"I always felt that this old fellow was the most useless one."
Lu Wu smiled bitterly and bent down, staring intently at the city below—the city into which he had poured all his heart and effort. He seemed lost in thought.
"Let that day come soon. I'm tired too."
For a moment, Lu Wu's youthful face was filled with the weariness of ages.
Dao City.
"Ancestor, strange phenomena are emerging everywhere outside. How should our Daoist sect conduct itself?"
Several Daoists climbed the mountain and asked respectfully.
After a long while, an aged voice came from within the dilapidated thatched hut. "How things were in the past is how they shall be now."
"The strife of the world is no more than passing clouds."
"If Heaven Group wins, our Daoist sect shall retreat into the mountains from this day forth, ignore worldly affairs, and enjoy the peace until our lifespans run out. That would be following the Dao of Heaven."
"If Heaven Group loses..."
"Save whoever can be saved. We will still retreat into the mountains then, preserving a few sparks for humanity and leaving them a sliver of hope."
"Leave."
The voice was as calm as an ancient well.
The several Daoists outside exchanged glances, bowed deeply toward the thatched hut once more, and slowly withdrew.
For a time,
Among the inheritances left behind from ancient times, only the Daoist sect still maintained its former tranquility. From beginning to end, it had never changed.
"Say, did you install some kind of tracking system on me?"