After gathering up the wooden slips, Jiang Yang walked outside and silently asked in his heart:
"Senior Bai, you saw that immortal book just now too, didn't you? Did you learn anything from it?"
"I took a glance."
Bai Tang only answered after a while, then muttered impatiently:
"A jumble of ghostly scribbles. Who could make sense of that?"
"Oh..."
Jiang Yang secretly stifled a laugh.
It was rare to see Senior Bai stumped, but that also proved from another angle that the book of slips was no ordinary thing.
In Jiang Yang's mind, Bai Tang was practically an encyclopedia, just short of answering every question under heaven. Now that even she could not understand it, the vague suspicion in his heart grew stronger.
The timing simply was not right. He was still inside the Blessed Land, hardly a suitable place for secluded cultivation.
Otherwise, Jiang Yang would certainly have studied it closely, changed his cultivation method, and thoroughly experienced the wonders of this Immortal Art.
The Underground Palace was no place to linger. After discussing it, the three left the thatched cottage. Looking at the fork in the path, Shang Qingzheng asked:
"Which way should we go?"
One way led to the known, the other to the unknown. Tai Pei'er's greatest wish for this journey had already been fulfilled, so she said:
"There's something to be said for going back or pressing on. Either way is fine with me."
Jiang Yang thought for a moment at that, then said:
"Then let's head south. The Northern Hall has collapsed, and molten iron is flowing everywhere. There's nowhere to set foot if we turn back. If this way doesn't work out, we can simply retrace our steps."
"All right."
With their decision made, the three said no more and headed straight