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Hah, I wish. Unfortunately, the City of the Dead—no, the Generous Pot—is a hundred times more temperamental than you. It never even makes a peep. If I want to know what it’s thinking, all I can do is make a guess.
This mirror, on the other hand, chatted with him all the time. He Lingchuan was already used to it speaking up out of nowhere, so he simply voiced the question that had been bothering him.
The mirror sounded smug. “Why are you asking around? You should’ve just asked me.”
“Oh?” This thing actually has an answer? Pleasantly surprised, He Lingchuan took the mirror out and held it up, face to face. “Then say it.”
“Actually, I don’t have a definitive conclusion.”
He Lingchuan immediately lost interest. “Then stop wasting my time.”
“This is just me being rigorous!” The “He Lingchuan” inside the mirror looked mildly offended. “Forget me, none of the seniors of the Heavenly Evolution Sect had more than conjecture.”
“Well, a conjecture is still better than nothing. Tell me one.”
“The common explanation is that imperial nectar is an occasional massive surge of heaven-and-earth spirit qi—like volcanoes and earthquakes, it’s something that only erupts after long accumulation. But in the early...
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