Jiang Ding's face was calm.
He stopped trying to find answers in the various records on rules.
Instead, he used his authority as an Immortal Sect council member to investigate all sorts of things online—not the journals on cutting-edge immortal technology he usually loved, but idle chatter, culture, entertainment, and other matters of a more humanistic bent.
In this respect, the Immortal Sect, with ten trillion citizens who had all received a basic immortal education, was highly developed.
Film, games, novels, music—all had produced many great works over the course of their histories. Even a thousand years later, people still spoke of them with relish.
Fans would occasionally dig out certain works to revisit them. They had captivated generation after generation of Immortal Sect citizens and could rightly be called great works that had stood the test of time.
But how to put it?
Jiang Ding had never been interested in such things. He could not appreciate them.
There was a generation gap.
His tastes, the things he found appealing, had taken shape nearly twenty thousand years ago.
He could understand the things Immortal Sect citizens now admired and enjoyed, and he knew what the many currents of popular culture meant. But he could not feel what they felt.
Besides, popular culture catered to the citizens who made up the overwhelming majority.
Void Refining cultivators like them possessed immense power, but there were only a few hundred of them. Most citizens had never lived such long lives and naturally could not create works that would resonate deeply with Void Refining cultivators or draw them in.
The notion that a mortal's film or song could entrance an immortal, lead him to enlightenment, and send his cultivation soaring was nothing more than a naïve fantasy.
For all these reasons, the Immortal Sect's