Three years had passed since the journey to Five-Finger Mountain.
Three years was not long, in a sense. It was entirely possible not to break through even a single Minor Realm. But neither was it short. Xiao Yan had passed through more than a dozen kingdoms large and small, crossed over hundreds of mountains, handed down countless books, skills, and Cultivation Methods, and at the same time pushed Great Li's borders outward by no one knew how far.
Passing on scriptures, naturally, was not as simple as handing things out and calling it done, because what mattered was not the scriptures, but the ideal—the ideal of relying on no one else and striving endlessly to strengthen oneself.
It did not matter if I was not stronger than others. So long as I was willing to learn, willing to pay the price, I would always be stronger than the me of yesterday. And one day, the me of that time and the me of now would be as far apart as clouds and mud!
To accomplish all this, relying on Xiao Yan alone naturally would have made it impossible within two years. But behind him stood the tens of thousands of Heaven's Chosen who, over the past century, had walked out of the academies spread all across Great Li.
What Xiao Yan had to do was merely plow through the land once, persuade and recruit one group, suppress another, and then let those watching from the sidelines see the results. As for the rest, others would naturally take over. And just like that, the journey had gone by without shock or danger.
"This job really isn't hard. It's just a little too boring. I wonder what year it'll finally end..."
Amid the unbroken mountain range, only the occasional beast roar sounded.