A Bout of Fussing Around

After leaving Cloud Floating Peak, Duan Rong turned into a Black Ray and flew into a valley shrouded in drifting clouds and mist.

He had considered turning the sect's Mountain Body Divine Statue into a painted divine statue before. He had never intended to hide it from Chu Wushang. Telling Zhu He had also been his deliberate way of notifying him.

As for the wording to cover it up, he had long since prepared it.

Duan Rong landed on a mountain top. After following a winding path for a while, he saw a Thatched Hut beside a stream in a clearing within the Dense Forest.

Chu Wushang was still sitting there, weaving a bamboo-strip basket as he basked in the sun.

Seeing Chu Wushang like this, Duan Rong could not help sighing inwardly.

If he too had taken the path of comprehending a medium, would he not have ended up the same way?

Spending several centuries fumbling through a tedious medium, seeking to break through the shackles and attain the Dao Body by this method.

Duan Rong had a feeling that this method was excessively clumsy. Or, to use another word, primitive.

It was likely related to the history of the Nine Provinces World as well.

How long humanity had existed in the Nine Provinces could no longer be verified. Yet the cultivation history of the Human Race of the Nine Provinces spanned merely tens of thousands of years.

For cultivation, tens of thousands of years was truly rather short.

Take Chu Wushang, for instance. He had spent one or two centuries exploring this single medium already.

Measured by that standard, a history of tens of thousands of years was not long at all. On the contrary, it was very short.

In other words, the cultivation methods of the Nine