Zhou Yi listened to the conversations in the hall, finding them rather amusing.
They claim to care about the sect's legacy, but when they hear the dangers of the righteous and demonic sword battles, none are willing to risk their lives for the sect.
Compared to one's own safety, the ancestors count for little!
"A True Person with two hundred years of life becomes indifferent to bloodlines, a True Monarch with five hundred years grows cold to the sect. A Nascent Soul Patriarch with a thousand-year lifespan cares for nothing at all; their battles and slaughter can devastate thousands of miles, tens of thousands dying in calamity, just as mortals drown out an anthill!"
Zhou Yi shook his head slightly, silently reciting the Pure Heart Sutra to quell his chaotic thoughts.
Even if one became unrivaled above and below, one should still remain reverent, otherwise, one day, a cold heart will bring death.
