The Innate Daoist Priest was immersed in his memories from 120,000 years ago, while the Taciturn Daoist Priest held a brush, recording the Innate Daoist Priest’s memoirs. If one ignored the contents of the Taciturn Daoist Priest’s notes, this would be a harmonious scene between the young and the old.2

The Innate Daoist Priest spoke from dawn until dusk, only stopping when the barbeque skewers he had eaten at noon were completely digested.0

Lu Yang and Gan Tian swept their spiritual consciousness over what their shifu had written down. Worried that the Innate Daoist Priest couldn’t accept the Taciturn Daoist Priest’s overly advanced publicity concepts and might do something extreme, like an ancestor beating up an unworthy descendant, they tacitly agreed not to mention the matter.1

Moreover, they couldn’t exactly say that what their master recorded was wrong. At the very least, every sentence originated from the Innate Daoist Priest’s words. They could at most call it slightly...3