Ye Changqing looked at Zhou Xuan and nodded firmly, then let out a long sigh.
"You're asking too much."
Ye Changqing leaned back in his chair, his face somewhat pale from the backlash.
"This Preacher you're talking about—that's simply not a job any human could do."
Zhou Xuan said nothing. He pulled over a chair and sat down, waiting for him to continue.
"Think about it. This person has to walk the world, facing mortals whose heads are filled with fear, greed, and jealousy."
Ye Changqing counted off the points on his fingers.
"He needs extraordinary warmth, enough to make people trust him at first sight. Worse still, he must possess a purity that can move others from the depths of their souls."
Ye Changqing spread his hands, his voice steeped in helplessness.
"What kind of place are we living in? The Cultivation World! People here would beat their own brothers' brains out over a single spirit stone. Where am I supposed to find you a saint with a pure soul and no selfish desires?"
The more Ye Changqing spoke, the more impossible the whole thing seemed.
"Cultivators are used to standing high above everyone else, used to treating mortals like ants. You want them to empathize with mortals? To listen to their suffering? They'd sooner die."
"Even if you force a few Nascent Soul elders to preach, the mortals know perfectly well that those lofty immortals look down on them. That kind of false enlightenment will only backfire."
In the corner, Second Brother swallowed the last scraps of sinking silver and belched.
"Why not just find someone good-looking to fool them?"
Second Brother cut in, utterly unconcerned.
"I think that Qin girl would do nicely. Have her stand there, and those mortals will surely behave. Anyone who doesn't, I'll