"Th-then, Senior, do you truly mean that?"
Hearing Fang Mo's proposal, Xue Feng was clearly tempted, but out of caution, he still asked, "Then what does Senior need this junior to do?"
"There isn't really anything I specifically need you to do..."
Fang Mo rubbed his chin. "But if I had to say something, it's that I suddenly feel like founding a sect, so I want to gather some disciples to help fill the place out. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a real pain in the... cough, cough, knows that I'm petty and extremely protective of my own."
"So if you're willing to join my sect, I'll naturally look after you."
"What?"
Xue Feng seemed stunned upon hearing that.
It was no wonder, really. There was simply too much scheming and deception among cultivators.
The major sects fought endlessly year-round over scraps of profit and resources. Over these past centuries, the common people had suffered beyond measure.
In Xue Feng's understanding, it was perfectly normal for cultivators and sects to engage in exchanges of interest, each taking what they needed. That was why he was so shocked by Fang Mo's words. He simply did not believe them, and his first reaction was that Fang Mo had some other motive.
"It doesn't matter if you don't believe me."
Fang Mo noticed the doubts in his eyes, but he did not care in the slightest. "Don't you want to absorb spiritual energy and feed it back into the cave mansion's earth vein? Then just take a name here and sit down to cultivate."
"Wha..."
"If you feel things are going south, you can activate that ability of yours and run whenever you want."
As Fang Mo spoke, he suddenly raised a hand, grabbed the Ender Handle on Xue Feng's shoulder,