Inside the room.
Crackling sounds!
Fang Jiuzhen sat there, fully focused, with an abacus placed on the table before him. His somewhat clumsy fingers moved across the beads, calculating something.
"A hundred and thirty disciples, plus the two new recruits, making it a total of one hundred and thirty-two people. This expense is not small at all."
"The spirit stones I stumbled upon last time by luck—after exchanging them for resources, there isn't much left."
"Trouble."
Fang Jiuzhen sighed heavily, so much that it felt like even his hair tips had turned grey.
Once, he had a few like-minded companions who helped him sustain the Nine Heavens Immortal Sect. But later, unable to see any hope and hindered in their cultivation, they left the sect and ventured elsewhere.
He didn't stop them.
Everyone has their own aspirations; he only hoped they could achieve immortality.
Of course.
