The mountains have restrictions, each with its own path.
The most miserable are the loose cultivators at the foot of the mountain, watching enviously as the disciples of the major sects ascend.
Only they have no organization, no sect foundation to support them, no advanced cultivation level.
At present, they can only wait for others to finish eating meat and hope for a bowl of hot soup leftover for them to drink.
The crowd could not help but lament, "As loose cultivators, we are ultimately just making wedding dresses for others."
"Fellow cultivators, why is there such a big gap, such inequality? Is the Heavenly Dao not meant to be fair?"
"The law of the jungle is worse than the secular world."
"These disciples from the famous sects could clearly bring us along, but they choose to leave us behind."
"Are we low-potential talents truly unworthy of cultivation?"
"..."
Sighs spread, one after another, quickly infecting all the loose cultivators present.
