"Exactly!" someone nearby immediately chimed in. "I'm telling you, in our sect, fellow disciples get ambushed on their way out to carry out missions practically every day."
"Getting off like we did, with only our possessions stripped away and our lives intact, already means our ancestors must have burned plenty of incense for us."
"Yeah!" another disciple agreed with a nod, even adding a half-joking remark.
"Worst comes to worst, we can make a few extra rounds ourselves next time we're out and learn from that bandit. Who knows? One circuit might earn back everything we lost!"
Hiss!
Listening to their chatter, Chun Xiaobai couldn't help muttering inwardly.
Why did it feel like... I'd been a little too merciful?
"All right, all right, don't take it so hard," a rather easygoing-looking disciple said with a sigh.
"Come on, don't tell me you've never done this sort of thing yourselves? It's not that retribution never comes; its time simply hasn't arrived."
"We'd better hurry out of the mountain. This trial ended ages ago. Who knows whether our sects have already left?"
"Do you even need to ask? Of course they've left!"
"You think they'd wait outside just for disciples like us?"
Blunt as those words were, they laid bare a cruel reality.
Most of the disciples present occupied the lowest rungs of their sects, with neither power nor influence and only mediocre talent. In the eyes of those lofty elders and sect masters, they were no different from ants.
Expecting those people to linger for these "trash" disciples was nothing short of a fairy tale.
The twenty-odd people walked and chatted, their words laying bare every last detail of the Cultivation World's cruel law of the strong devouring the weak.
Yet Chun Xiaobai had no mind to dwell on any of