Hearing Qi Yun's emotionless, purely inquisitive words, the Crown Prince of Nanyin understood perfectly.
The man before him was the type who wouldn't act without a clear reward—or even one who, upon seeing the reward, would first check for traps.
Without a tangible, substantial benefit on the table, no amount of eloquent promises or sworn oaths would truly move him.
The hem of his grey monastic robe fluttered gently in the pure, consecrated wind that flowed across the Celestial Tier.
He then began to speak, his voice transmitted at an even lower pitch, yet every word was crystal clear, cutting straight to the heart of the matter:
"Fellow Daoist, have you ever wondered why my father, the Emperor, who presided over the vast Nanyin empire and enjoyed the supreme glory of a mortal ruler, would suddenly abdicate thirty years ago without any warning to join the Buddhist Sect?"
