Listening to Tai Yuebai's account, Zhang Yu felt no particular surprise. Judged purely by the numbers, choosing Layer 1 was indeed the most rational choice.
But Tai Yuebai, looking at the silent Zhang Yu before him, felt a flash of sudden understanding.
He said slowly, "I recall—Layer 1 is your hometown, isn't it?"
"You don't want to sacrifice your hometown?"
Tai Yuebai sighed. "This kind of sentiment and thinking—I haven't seen it in Kunxu for far too long, so I unconsciously overlooked it."
Even as he spoke, all manner of data and records about Zhang Yu had already surfaced in Tai Yuebai's eyes—especially the various data and experiences Zhang Yu had left behind on Layer 1.
Ordinarily, the sect's higher cultivators would naturally pay no attention to the specifics of Zhang Yu's experiences on Layer 1.
But watching Zhang Yu's reaction, Tai Yuebai suddenly understood that in the other man's heart, Layer 1 was not a garbage heap, not a table full of jars and pots, but a place of special meaning.
At the same time, Tai Yuebai cross-referenced Zhang Yu's other records, and a thought welled up in his mind: "So this is what it means to be attached to old ties?"