Chu Yang, who was obviously very sharp-eared, immediately came over and patted Xiang Fan on the shoulder, saying with a teasing look on his face, "Hey, Brother Xiang, from what you said, you're planning to overthrow the world of immortal cultivation?"
Xiang Fan was startled and quickly waved his hands: "No, no, no, I was just thinking about it."
Chu Yang chuckled and shook his head, saying, "Just think about it, don't get too carried away. Look at my guerrilla mecha, it's handsome, but when compared to Lingxiao's swordsmanship, it lacks a bit of ethereal energy and isn't as reassuring."
Xiang Fan didn't respond, merely looking down at his hands, their palms covered in calluses from years of mecha repair. He muttered to himself, "Mechas aren't truly magical, but are their precision and power truly meaningless? Or... have we yet to find the right use for them?"
The Dharma Elder, clearly sensing the growing divisions within the room, coughed lightly, drawing everyone's attention. He slowly walked to the center, his voice calm yet undeniably powerful: "Technology and tradition aren't in absolute opposition. Technology is a tool, not a path. It can help you advance, but if you become obsessed with it, you'll ultimately lose your way."
The elder's gaze swept over each disciple, finally landing on Shen Tianshu, and he added softly, "The foundation of cultivation always lies in you."
These words were like the sound of a morning bell and an evening drum, stirring Xiang Fan's heart. He subconsciously turned to Chu Yang and asked, "Do you think what the elder said is right?"
Chu Yang shrugged lazily. "So what if it's wrong? Don't you still have to do it? But—" He paused, revealing a sly smile. "Brother, those of us who play with mechas still have to rely on technology to survive, right? Otherwise, we can just meditate like those traditionalists. Can you resist touching a mecha?"
Xiang Fan didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and casually threw a spiritual fruit over: "Can you please stop thinking about causing trouble?"
Chu Yang grabbed the spiritual fruit, took a bite, and said vaguely, "It's my professional ethics to stir up trouble. If I don't, I'll feel uncomfortable all over."
The debate in the council hall gradually subsided, but Xiang Fan's heart was stirred by new waves. He looked up at the blue sky outside the window and thought silently: "The elders' words, Brother Shen's position, the value of mechas... Which path is right? Or... is there a path that belongs to me?"
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