Hearing Wei Junjie's words, Baturu smiled faintly.
"You're wrong. The higher-level cultivators are, the more they believe in so-called fate."
"Only those fledgling brats unafraid of tigers refuse to believe in that bullshit fate."
Wei Junjie raised a brow. "I don't quite understand what you mean."
Tilting his head toward Wei Junjie, Baturu curled his lips upward.
"Looking across the world, there are only a few paths of fate for all high-level cultivators."
"First, survive in this world as a Loose Cultivator, until your Lifespan runs short and you slowly die of old age."
"Second, join a righteous faction and fight against the forces of darkness, only to die a heroic death in the end."
"Third, join a Forbidden Ground or some special place, hiding in the gutter like a rat as you slowly wait for that so-called opportunity for Chang Sheng."
"Perhaps one day, we too will be killed by some heroic figure. That is everyone's ultimate fate."
"Other than these three choices, do you have a fourth?"
"If people are destined from birth to have only a fixed ending, then what is that if not fate?"
After hearing Baturu's words, Wei Junjie pursed his lips. "Your question really seems to have stumped me."
"Have you found the answer now?"
"No!" Baturu shook his head. "Nearly two hundred thousand years is an incomparably long stretch of time."
"Of course, there are many beings in this world who have lived longer than I have, but I believe they are all pondering the same question as me."
"If our pursuit of Chang Sheng ends in emptiness, does everything we have done still hold any meaning?"
As his words fell, Wei Junjie sank into silence.
By the reckoning of time, he had entered the Forbidden Ground even earlier than Baturu.
He also