Newspapers in the Cultivation World were not hard to understand.
After all, in the ancient Great Coward Dynasty from Zhang Qingyuan's distant memories, privately circulated handwritten sheets and pamphlets had already begun to appear among the people.
Although the vast majority of cultivators set their sights on immortality, their productivity was genuinely high.
At the very least, in that distant world from Zhang Qingyuan's memories, there was no technology that could make rice and wheat grow and bear fruit within mere days, nor were there single-person flying vehicles or spatial transportation technology.
As a medium for spreading information, newspapers were also immensely useful to cultivators, so their emergence was nothing strange.
Of course, the newspapers of this world were not called newspapers.
They were called Times.
Times, Times—naturally, they recorded recent major events in the Cultivation World of Central Continent, and even the Cultivation World of the Outer Continents, then sold them for people to read.
Many cultivator taverns specifically collected such things to attract customers.
In any case, Zhang Qingyuan had browsed nearly twenty years' worth of Times.
No matter which publisher it was, there was no longer any discussion of him in the papers.
His existence
was like a shooting star that had once streaked across the skies of Yuzhou.
Once the buzz had passed,
no one remembered him again!
"This is quite good. The taller the tree, the more wind it catches. Dark currents are surging through the Cultivation World of Central Continent; as an outsider, it's better to keep a low profile."
After cultivating in seclusion for some time, his strength had greatly improved, and he had received this news as well.
Zhang Qingyuan felt thoroughly at ease.
He even had the leisure to look through the papers for interesting news.
For instance, some heavenly prodigy