It’s truly strange to say.
It seems that after staying in this realm for a long time—especially when one gains insight into the prodigies of this world, from the sect elders and the clan heads, those veteran schemers whose eyes flicker with countless thoughts in an instant—
To those elders of the sects, at the Golden Core realm, who may appear either genuinely mad or feigning madness for the sake of convenience while burdened with calamity qi—
Down to the younger generation like Chu Weiyang, the rising star of the Primordial Sect, whose Mystical True Mirror in the Mud Pellet Palace sees through countless souls and divine forms, helping him weigh and consider every move, soon to burst forth like a sly fox—
After undergoing layer upon layer of such tempering and cultivation, even someone like Shang Bo, who once looked like a sad old farmer worn by life, could subtly express feelings that ought not to be spoken aloud through the slightest changing of his eyebrows and eyes.
And a young scholar, originally absorbed only in scriptures and cultivation techniques, could now, at a glance fixed on another’s brow, easily read the hidden meanings beneath the surface words.