Everyone, cultivators included, unanimously chose to rebuild a new city here.
It did not have to look like it once had. They could even use boats as homes and live upon the water; it did not even need to bear the name "Jingyuan." But this was their root. No one would despise their own homeland for being humble and shabby.
Though this was clearly in the wake of a great disaster, the air hanging over these waters was not despairing. It could even be called spirited and rising.
Compared with the common folk's positivity and optimism, however, the several Lineages in the city that had fed on "Si Ying's blood-soaked buns" were not doing so well. With their Spirit Transformation ancestors—the pillars holding them up—dead, the remaining rabble could ruin themselves without anyone's help.
What was more, though Bitter Crossing Temple practiced Buddhism, it was truly not made of straw. Not knowing before was one thing, but now that they knew, they naturally could not let this group bully their own disciple. Thus, Jingyuan City's old powers were completely reshuffled. And because there was no longer anyone at the Spirit Transformation level in the city, its cultivation atmosphere instead began developing in a healthier direction.
After his injuries healed, Bushi silently took on the "post-disaster reconstruction work" relegated to society's edges. He had no cultivation now; strictly speaking, he was no different from an ordinary person. Naturally, he could not speak of saving others or saving himself. Besides, he was filled with resentment and bitterness. Just as Wen Xu had said, he could see no one in his eyes, nor was he willing to bow his head to anyone.
Though Jingyuan City had collapsed, the "Jingyuan City" in his heart had only just begun to turn to sand.
Bushi had