Min Ning listened attentively and immediately asked, "You said it's close to nirvana, so in the end, hasn't he reached nirvana?"
Chen Yi exhaled a breath, recalling the sword that Wu Buxu had struck in his final moments. If it had truly landed, life or death would still be uncertain. He slowly explained, "Close to nirvana, but in the end, not nirvana. He sees the Sword Dao as grass and stalks of wheat, not as emptiness. And over the past hundred years, he has aspired to cultivate talent for the Sword Dao, which has destined him not to be one who transcends nirvana, but one who harbors hope. It is precisely this bit of hope that has brought him to a new realm."
"A new realm?"
Though the words were calm, Min Ning intuitively felt a perilous aura. If this were so, how had Chen Yi survived?
Chen Yi slowly responded, "My realm."
