Unsheathed

Inside an old and refined Daoist temple that was covered in peach trees, a healthy-looking old Daoist priest was currently sitting opposite a wizened Buddhist monk. The old monk was nothing but skin and bones, yet he was wearing a surprisingly large and loose-fitting Buddhist robe.

"How was his punch?" the old Daoist priest asked with a faint smile.

"Extreme rigidity begets brittleness," the old monk replied slowly.

The old Daoist priest glanced at a cup of tea on the table and asked, "Do you think we should leave this cup of peach syrup tea here? Do you think that young man will return to the peach tree forest and visit this temple to gulp down this tea?"

"Excessive talk begets mistakes," the old monk said with no expression on his face.

The old Daoist priest wasn't wearing his Daoist hat, and he only had an unfettered headpiece tied around his head and an old and ordinary Daoist robe on his body. He didn't possess an impressive immortal demeanor.

He sighed softly and said, "The three female heavenly officials of Mural City had already left their murals and each chosen a master. An Upper Five Tier cultivator from another continent has also barged into Malicious Ghost Valley with He Xiaoliang, with the two of them traveling together to Skeleton Wall City. At the same time, Yang Chongxuan is showing signs of being able to obtain that fated opportunity. If Pu Rang causes some commotion as well at this moment, causing Zhu Quan to personally lash out, then Malicious Ghost Valley will truly enter a state of utter commotion. When that time comes, our last remaining otherworldly paradise might also lose its peaceful and tranquil nature."

"Impressive foresight, True Lord," the wizened old monk said with a nod.

The old monk silently chanted "Amitabha" in his mind when he heard the mention of Pu Rang.

The old Daoist priest had actually detected the fluctuation in the old monk's mind already, but there was no need to say anything since the two of them already knew everything about each other.

The old Daoist priest gazed into the distance and said, "To cultivators like us, even the border between life and death is fuzzy, so what place in the world isn't a cage? The more oblivious we are, the more we feel at ease. But once we become knowledgeable, how can we truly feel at ease?"

The old monk contemplated this for a moment before lowering his head and holding his hands together in a prayer, revealing his hands that were dry and shrivelled yet covered in a golden yellow luster. "My Buddhist knowledge is not yet able to hold up my Buddhist robe, so how can I seek an audience with Buddha? How can I ask about this ancient dilemma?"