Meng Chuan spent more time studying those divine arts and Sever techniques, even extrapolating and reshaping some of them.
Meng Chuan's talent was no empty boast.
Then Meng Chuan emerged from seclusion—his true body this time.
From his trip to the world of A Chinese Ghost Story to his study of Dugu Baitian's Sever techniques, this had been the longest seclusion of Meng Chuan's cultivation journey.
A full twenty thousand years!
It left Meng Chuan, who had returned from the world of A Chinese Ghost Story, with a distinct sense that time had gone awry.
It was now the thirtieth year of the Dao Calendar—thirty thousand years since the Dao Realm had burst onto the scene.
Meng Chuan was thirty-eight thousand five hundred years old. By the lifespan of an ordinary Great Emperor, he should have long since died sitting in meditation.
Of course, your Brother Meng was still alive and kicking.
Meng Chuan stretched and glanced over the Dao Realm. It had flourished over the past twenty thousand years. Some old things had found new life, while new things were growing with vigor.
He was about to take a stroll through the Dao Realm when inspiration suddenly struck.
"Is today Monday? Hmm, let me work it out. Wouldn't it be exactly three in the afternoon in a moment?"
Meng Chuan counted on his fingers and quickly worked out the time.
The Shrouding the Heavens World had no concept of weekdays, only years, months, and days.
But that did not matter. If Meng Chuan said there were weekdays, the Shrouding the Heavens World had better have them!
Meng Chuan then appeared in his meeting room—the Dao Realm version of Source Castle.
"Meeting time! Meeting time!"
Meng Chuan's voice rang in the ears of the Dao Realm Gods. He did not