Hearing the man's words, Ye Xiu's face was full of irritation.
He waved to the people in the main hall, then turned and left.
The gathered powerhouses in the hall watched his departing back and all fell silent, saying nothing.
"There are only so many Hunyuan Wuji, only so many who can Seek the Dao, and only so many Dao Masters."
"This is the end of the Dao?"
"This is the fucking end of cultivation?"
"What kind of fucking rules are these?"
Ye Xiu stood alone above the heavens, cursing without restraint.
His irritation had now reached its peak.
What was he so irritated about?
Was it those fucking rules?
Or was it the matter of reviving Yun'er?
Or perhaps it was because he could see no hope?
The scene abruptly shattered there.
Ye Lin, meanwhile, fell silent.
There was a fixed number of powerhouses?
Three thousand Dao Masters, ten thousand Seekers of the Dao, and eighteen thousand Hunyuan Wuji?
For some reason, a trace of irritation also rose inexplicably in Ye Lin's heart.
What kind of fucking rules were these?
But in the next instant, all the irritation in Ye Lin's heart vanished.
With his current cultivation, he was not yet qualified to think about such complicated matters.
After all, he was not even a Quasi-Saint yet, much less a Saint.
Once he cast off that burden, Ye Lin felt light and unburdened.
One scene after another began to unfold.
What played out in those scenes was Ye Xiu's journey through the Primordial Continent.
During that time, Ye Xiu discovered a fact.
There were no conflicts on the Primordial Continent. Everyone seemed exceptionally harmonious, with no slaughter or fighting.
Everyone merely focused on their own affairs.
Some Saints, some Hunyuan Wuji, even cultivators of the Dao-Seeking Realm, were opening