Cultivators Against a Modern Army, a Very Reasonable Game

On the grass outside the nuclear factory, Chen Feng walked ahead, with Yue Yao following behind him.

Yue Yao did not dare speak, only following quietly behind Chen Feng, whom she loved.

"How long have you been with the Xingfeng Sect?" Chen Feng suddenly asked.

Yue Yao's face turned pale. "It's been six years. If the sect master hadn't appreciated me back then, I would have long since..."

Chen Feng cut her off. "You used to be a royal princess. You always struck me as poised and graceful, and you showed a fair amount of wisdom in handling matters. Why have you become like this after just a few years?"

Chen Feng suddenly turned to look at Yue Yao. Meeting his gaze, she felt her legs go weak again and dropped to her knees.

This time, there was no sign of grievance on her face, and she did not use any of the techniques she had learned from the library.

"Sect master, it's because of me. Back then, the old ancestor gave me to someone as a cultivation cauldron. From that moment on, I felt that cultivators were beings beyond my reach."

"It wasn't until I joined the sect that I learned cultivators weren't beyond reach after all. Even mortals could kill cultivators with powerful weapons. From then on, I especially wanted to see a nuclear bomb I made with my own hands kill a cultivator."

Yue Yao was essentially telling the truth. This really was what she thought deep down.

She had never shared these thoughts with anyone in all those years, but facing Chen Feng now, she did not dare hide anything.

Hearing this, Chen Feng understood at once.

This was a textbook case of post-traumatic stress disorder, a condition common in modern society.

It was a psychological