Every few hundred zhang, squads of law enforcers in uniform black robes, faces solemn, silently patrolled to maintain public order.
Shen Xuan's voice rang out, firm and resonant: "For them."
True Master Yao Chen did not understand at first, then his mind trembled slightly.
From those ordinary faces, he saw a strange kind of radiance.
Not the confusion, numbness, and exhausted squalor common among Loose Cultivators.
But yearning, confidence, and exhilaration.
A spiritual bearing that life would grow better.
"We who have cultivated Golden Cores—our ancestors were once Loose Cultivators, or even just mortals."
Shen Xuan turned back, his gaze clear as a mirror.
"We come from the common folk, and shall return to the common folk."
"Tier One Elixirs, Magical Artifacts, Talismans, Array Plates, Spirit Rice..."
