Sure enough, no one called a Celestial Master was easy to deal with.
Seeing her say that, Feng Jun no longer wanted to beat around the bush—being a man, he could not be more coy than a woman.
So he spoke bluntly. "I'm actually quite interested in some of Qingshan's talismans... for research."
This answer was within Tang Wenji's expectations. She nodded. "Mm, and then?"
Feng Jun lit another cigarette. "You may suspect that this ancestral plaque is not a storage artifact, but I can prove that it is. I can help you take some things out... and put some things back in as well, but I won't do it for free."
Hearing this, Tang Wenji finally let out a long breath—you had finally made your demands.
To be honest, what she had been worried about all along was that he would not think much of what Qingshan had to offer. As long as he wanted something, there was room for negotiation.
Put that way, Qingshan seemed to be undermining its own prestige. It was, after all, a direct branch of Shangqing. How could it worry that someone might look down on it?
But that was indeed the reality. Qingshan had its own pride and would not tolerate others offending it. Yet as a Daoist sect active in the secular world, they had to consider more than just pride; they also had to consider survival and growth.
If Qingshan absolutely refused to let anyone offend its pride, then when Jiaohuang Mountain's descendant temple was called Celestial Master while they could only be called Lesser Celestial Masters, how could they possibly swallow that insult?
Setting aside worldly considerations, they would have gone straight to Jiaohuang Mountain to fight. After that, their Daoist lineage would probably have been finished...
And now, the