After countless times, all that remained were the vague concepts of "Qi Refinement, seventh level, Foundation..."
"Qi Refinement, seventh level, not yet Foundation Establishment..."
"Sun Yi" nodded to himself.
Then it dawned on him; wasn’t that stating the obvious?
Qi Refinement, seventh level, naturally hadn’t reached Foundation Establishment yet.
But when he tried to ponder further, his thoughts grew hazy, unable to think of anything else.
"Is he just a filler disciple?"
Sun Yi muttered to himself.
He decided not to bother anymore, only remembering Mr. Zhuang, Old Kui, and the Bai siblings, and then nodded to himself.
Sun Yi took off his outer clothes and wiped away the blood on his face and body.
Then, he tore off the old and dirty Taoist Robe from the already-dead Sun Ji and put it on himself.
"Now it fits.")
Sun Ji was tall and thin, while Sun Yi had an average build and was slightly plump.
The Taoist Robe fit him just right.
"Sun Yi" pushed open the door again, the sky was dimming, and he walked out alone.
The disciples of the Sun Family were taken aback when they saw him.
For he was wearing an old Taoist Robe, which looked very peculiar.
Some disciples greeted Sun Yi respectfully, but he ignored them as if he had neither seen nor heard them, continuing to walk out with uneven steps.
Sun Yi left the Sun Family’s gate.
Then he walked down the main road of Thousand Families Town, not looking back as he headed into the distance, disappearing at the end of the vast mountains.
This was the last time the disciples of the Sun Family saw their Family Head.
The Spirit Farmers of East Mountain Village also gossiped that the Family Head of the Sun Family, Sun Yi, wearing the robe of a dead man, limping away as if his soul had been hooked by something.
Most people speculated that Sun Yi had violated the ancestral teachings, and the Old Ancestor of the Sun Family had taken him to the underworld for punishment.
After that, Sun Yi never came back.
Nor was he seen again.
...
While "Sun Yi" was deducing Mo Hua’s identity, Mr. Zhuang in the carriage also opened his eyes.
"Master, would you like some tea?" Mo Hua asked with a crisp voice.
Mr. Zhuang liked to nap, and after waking, he liked to drink some tea.
The preferences of the master were well remembered by Mo Hua.
Mr. Zhuang nodded slightly.
Mo Hua then poured him a cup of tea.
Mr. Zhuang seemed somewhat weary; after drinking the tea from Mo Hua, he felt a bit reinvigorated and then asked:
"Mo Hua, how does a person die?"
It wasn’t just Mo Hua who was startled.
Even Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi both looked puzzled.
They didn’t know why Mr. Zhuang would suddenly ask such a question.
"Uh... If you’re killed, you die?"
Mo Hua said quietly.
"You can die from hunger, from old age as well..." Bai Zisheng also said.
```
"What is the bottom line, then?"
Mo Hua recalled what Mr. Zhuang had said about a cultivator’s Spiritual Power, Blood Qi, and Divine Sense and tried to express:
"A cultivator will die if the physical body exhausts, the Qi Sea shatters, or the Divine Sense perishes..."
"So, a cultivator’s death ultimately relates to these three aspects?"
Mr. Zhuang nodded slightly.
"If someone wants to kill you, they will target one of these three, either wrecking your physical body, shattering your Qi Sea, or destroying your Divine Sense."
Mo Hua felt a chill in his heart, "Master, is someone trying to kill me?"
Mr. Zhuang shook his head, "It’s better to be safe than sorry."
"Oh." Mo Hua nodded, pondered for a moment, then asked doubtfully: