Ye Wudao, seventh-generation sect master of Qingyun Sect, had reached the Great Perfection of the Tribulation Transcendence stage and spent three thousand years in seclusion.
On the day he emerged, a sweep of his divine sense revealed that the strongest person in the Nine Provinces had only reached the Deity Transformation stage.
Even more absurdly, the “junk” in his eyes had become priceless treasures, while “basic knowledge” had become a lost art.
Was the sect bankrupt? No, the entire age had gone bankrupt.
The only disciple still guarding the ruins was Zhou Zhiruo, at the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment, wearing patched clothes and keeping a ledger with yellowed pages.
Ye Wudao opened the ledger. “The Myriad Treasures Pavilion owes us five million?”
“They’ve occupied our main peak for three thousand years.”
“Then let’s change that. They don’t owe us money. We owe them money.”
“What about the rent?”
“What rent?”
“They’ve been mining our spirit veins for three thousand years. Shouldn’t they pay rent?”
From Qingxu Sect to the Myriad Treasures Pavilion, from the Northern Sea Dragon Clan to the envoys from the Immortal Realm,
Ye Wudao collected rent and crushed his opponents all the way.
“It’s only been three thousand years, and this is all the skill Great Ascension cultivators have?”
“This formation? Even the simplified version I taught my disciples back then was more complete.”
“This junk is too uneven for me to use as a table leg.”
When an envoy from the Immortal Realm arrived, Ye Wudao pulled out a jade pendant he’d casually picked up years ago. “Looking for this?”
The envoy fell to his knees.
Not bad, the start was a little surprising.
Pretty good looking