Undercurrents

Li Qi rose and left.

He did not go to save those suffering people of Immortal Heaven, because there was no need.

By this day, Li Qi was no longer the hot-blooded youth he had been in Guangyang.

If the Li Qi of this moment returned to Guangyang back then, he would most likely choose to stand by with folded arms. Only when Monk Chanzhi finally made his move would he intervene.

As for everything before that—the struggles in Guangyang, Sky Swallowing Demon Lord's desire to compete, Rat King's attempt to seize incense offerings, even the locals' various forms of numbness—Li Qi likely would not concern himself with any of it.

There was no particular reason. There simply was no need.

Yes, no need. All of it existed in a perfectly natural state. That was simply how things were. It could not be called especially good, but neither was it especially bad. There was no need to forcibly change it.

Forcing a change was like a documentary cameraman running over to rescue a baby seal from a polar bear's jaws.

Was that necessarily a good thing?

Perhaps not.

The only thing that was not quite appropriate was probably Monk Chanzhi's descent. Li Qi would stop that, but he would let the rest take its course.

The matter of Immortal Heaven was naturally the same.

His long life and nearly ten thousand years of experience had already pulled Li Qi away from the fervor that once made his blood boil.

He would still pursue his own Dao, but he would no longer interfere with the outside world so intensely, because he knew that the essence of those matters was actually quite illusory.

The stronger one became, the more one could feel the effect that one or two events had upon the