The world within the painting, the Self-Transforming Stele.
The stone stele was broken, but the four large characters, "The Great Dao has no arts," were still faintly visible.
Wu Zheng and Wei Dao looked at the inscription before them, feeling some regret.
Wei Dao felt rather resentful. "Old Wu, aren't the two of us just too unlucky?"
"All along the way, every place was either empty or already visited. We finally managed to find this place..."
He glanced at the spot where Lin Qinglong had passed away in seated meditation. As though afraid of something indescribable, he instinctively lowered his voice.
"We finally managed to find this place, and there's still nothing..."
Wei Dao did want to follow those three rogue cultivators and see whether there was a chance to ambush and kill them.
But...
Old Wu beside him had grown up with him. He knew all too well what sort of man he was.
Wu Zheng was too kindhearted. Never mind robbing and killing rogue cultivators-he would not even compete with others for treasures.
All one ever heard from him were those few sayings.
"Suffering a loss is a blessing," "Keep things friendly," and so on.
Perhaps this was also why he still could not break through to the late Qi Refining stage after cultivating in the Dongyuan Sect for so many years.
On the great path of immortal cultivation, what was the point of cultivating if one neither competed nor fought?
It was not as though he possessed an innate Dao physique or was an immortal lord reincarnated...
"It's all right, it's all right. When the old frontier man lost his horse, who could have known it was not a blessing?"
"Old Wei, didn't we kill a talisman golem and get a Middle-Grade Spirit Stone?"
Just as expected.