"Father, it's been two and a half years."
"It's fine. There's still time. Just wait."
"..."
"Father, it's the tenth year."
"Not bad. Ten years pass in the blink of an eye."
"..."
"Father, it's the twentieth year. He still hasn't gone on a single mission."
"It's only been twenty years. There are still eighty years left."
"..."
"Father, it's the fiftieth year. Li Zhōujūn still spends all day strolling around and roasting chickens. He hasn't accepted a single mission, and the rare treasures planted in that patch of Spirit Soil on his mountain are almost mature. How about we talk to him and try to get him to lend us that Spirit Soil?
"That way, we won't have to risk being discovered by the Law Enforcement Hall and crippling Li Zhōujūn. The only problem is that the risk of us planting forbidden medicine might be a little higher.
"It seems we still have to use some method to control Li Zhōujūn. We can't let him die, because if he dies, Rao Yun Mountain will be sealed off again for no reason. We can't let him find out, either—and even if he does find out, we can't let him tell anyone. This is so difficult. We'd better cripple him..."
"...Keep waiting. There are still fifty years left. I refuse to believe he really won't take a single mission!"
"..."
"Father, it's already the sixtieth year. The rare treasures planted in that patch of Spirit Soil on Rao Yun Mountain are completely mature. He should be harvesting them today..."
At that moment, the mentally haggard Fú Jìndào looked at the equally listless Fú Xuěsōng and spoke.
Sixty years!
A full sixty years!
Did anyone know how the father and son had made it through these sixty years?
They had been watching