As Chang Yu spoke, he pointed at the cultivators who had arrived slightly later than their group. Just as Chang Yu had said, those cultivators merely waved a hand. Without even waiting for the low-ranking cultivators from the various countries to speak, they turned and flew away. Some were even more excessive, sweeping out a hand and generating a fierce gale that sent those low-ranking cultivators tumbling backward through the air.
Xiao Hua helplessly rubbed his forehead and smiled. "It was not that this Xiao was softhearted. But seeing that we are all disciples of the Daoist sect, I had to show them a little mercy."
"Haha..." Wu Tianxin laughed heartily, a rare sight. Looking at Xiao Hua with great interest, he said, "Fellow Daoist Xiao, was that not being softhearted? Those so-called Daoist sect cultivators may wear the outer skin of our Daoist sect, but their hearts have already become the hearts of Confucian cultivators! They might even be Daoist lackeys raised by the various Confucian nations!"
"Per... perhaps." Xiao Hua smiled. In truth, not to mention Daoist sect cultivators—even if several Confucian scholars came over now, smiling and holding tokens, with Xiao Hua's temperament, he might not refuse them. At most, he would take a few more tokens and listen to a few more empty words in midair. It was merely the effort of lifting a hand.
As they spoke, several Daoist sect cultivators behind them swaggered past the many tents and military camps and flew into Yaotai Mountain. The low-ranking cultivators recruiting worthy men and talented scholars did not seem dejected at all. Each appeared to have completed their task and flew back into their respective camps. Beside a small tent where the group descended, another armored man stared at Xiao Hua in the air with disbelief.