Seeing the words appear on the broken mirror, Jiang Ping An's heart pounded wildly:
"Death countdown? Is that how many more years I have left to live?"
Three hundred and twenty years was an extremely long time for mortals.
But for a cultivator, it was merely the time it took to close and open one's eyes.
Many people wanted to know how long they had left to live, but once they truly knew, an immense sense of pressure and urgency would arise in their hearts.
"Damn it! What exactly will happen three hundred and twenty years from now? Explain it clearly! Let this Lord God prepare himself! Why won't it explain things clearly?"
The irritable dark persona soul cursed furiously.
The melancholy, sorrowful persona soul spoke in a despairing tone:
"Predicting the future and changing the future both bring backlash. The person who left this message may have been trying to avoid suffering a time curse, so they could not leave too much information. At most, they could issue a warning."
What the future held was unknown. The only thing Jiang Ping An knew was that he had another three hundred and twenty years to live, and that death awaited him in the future.
Jiang Ping An sat quietly where he was, closed his eyes, and circulated the Soul Disorder Art, suppressing the chaotic fluctuations of his emotions.
"Since I don't know what will happen, I can't possibly prepare for certain sudden events, nor can I easily avoid the risks."
"The only thing I can do is improve my cultivation. Whether it is to face death or to break free from becoming a chess piece, I must grow stronger!"
Jiang Ping An did not want others to control his life. He did not want to become a puppet or a