Above the Immortal Cultivation

"You are right, this is indeed a puzzling thing."

Wang Lu was very surprised. He was surprised by two points:

First, Duan Zhi's spiritual eyes were too magical.

As long as the spiritual sense was sensitive, even if he had not seen it with his own eyes and had inadvertently ignored it, this magical power would pull it back and shine it into his mind again.

So he saw the silent and traceless eye contact between the silver-robed monk and the eighth princess, which had only flashed by his spiritual sense before and did not attract his attention.

And then he deduced that the two were not only old acquaintances, but also the silver-robed monk was sent by the eighth princess to Zheng Xiong to monitor his every move and provoke disputes.

Second, as Duan Zhi said, their status as the supporters of Qidao can be said to be determined and cannot be changed. The silver-robed monk was so outstanding that he was not taken in to improve his ranking but given to Zheng Xiong. Once his outstanding performance directly allowed Zheng Xiong to obtain a noble position, the eighth princess would be furious.

Furthermore, the Eighth Princess knew that the place for the competition for the honorable position was the Qizheng Secret Realm, and that the owner of the last palace could switch to someone else at any time?

If that was the case, what was there to fight for the honorable position? Everyone was just playing a game with her. Why would she be in a situation where the honorable position was in danger and her life was in danger?

This was too absurd.

Then why did Zheng Xiong not notice his silver-clad owner and still firmly trust him?

Wang Lu raised his mouth, as if he saw through the silver-clad monk's clever tricks, and said calmly: "All of the above, the reason why Zheng Xiong was not aware of it at all, now it seems that there is only one reason?"

"Which one!"

The perfect deductions and accurate inferences that went straight to the heart had long made Duan Zhi admire Wang Lu's ingenuity.

Although the mystery of the silver-clad monk's identity had no great impact on the current honorable position, he still wanted to get a glimpse of it.

Wang Lu said with a smile: "Daoyou, have you ever thought of a possibility, that is, this silver-clad monk is no longer the same silver-clad monk."

"Could it be!"

Wang Lu's words were like a wake-up call, which made him suddenly enlightened.

"You mean, the real silver-clad monk was actually eliminated by this fake silver-clad monk a long time ago, and a fake one was replaced perfectly."

"No wonder Zheng Xiong didn't have any doubts, because he always thought that the silver-clad monk was his supporter."

Duan Zhi said in shock, and added: "So that's it!"

"Hehe," Wang Lu said with a smile, "It's not that he was careless, but that there were only six of the twenty supporters who appeared in the palace square. He was worried that there would be no supporters of his own, but when he saw the silver-clad monk standing proudly, he was so happy that he didn't even have time to doubt his true identity."

Duan Zhi's eyes sparkled, and he was once again amazed at Wang Lu's insight, nodding his head and saying, "You are right. If I were him, I would only think that with the arrival of the Silver-robed Monk, my chances of obtaining a noble position would be greatly increased compared to others without a supporter. With this consideration, he would naturally ignore the identity of the fake Silver-robed Monk."

"Hey, this is the best interpretation of the fact that happiness leads to sadness."

"Yes, great joy must be followed by great sadness, so no matter sadness or joy, we must always look at it with a normal mind and stay calm."

Wang Lu sighed, which made Duan Zhi think.

The origin of the Silver-robed Monk is clear, but his identity is still a mystery.

Wang Lu and Duan Zhi are not gods, so they naturally cannot see perfectly.

The flaws do not hide the merits, just be content.

Perhaps, leaving a little suspense is the most perfect answer.

After a few quiet breaths, Duan Zhi finally talked about the loophole that the two of them had not found no matter what. Seeing Wang Lu's serious expression, he explained: "In fact, not only are we wrong, but Ximen Gan and Cheng Chuan who want to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labor and kill the Ninth Prince and the Eighth Princess are even more wrong. The key point is still the position of honor."

After a pause, Duan Zhi exhaled a deep breath of turbid air that had been suppressed for a long time since he learned the truth, and said heavily: "No matter who it is, if you want to survive, you can only get the position of honor. Even if the five-year deadline is up, if no one grabs the position of honor, everyone will die!"

"How could this be!"

"Because in this secret realm we are in, there will be no such situation as "only four people left". It will never appear from beginning to end. It will only appear if you get the position of honor."

"Alas, I understand. It is indeed my fantasy and a fool's dream!"

Wang Lu sighed heavily.

No matter how accurate his previous analysis was, he completely forgot about "only four people left".

It really fits the famous saying:

A slight error can lead to a great loss.

There is only one month and ten days left, is it too late?

His face was pale, and he felt a deep frustration for the first time, which made him despair.

Duan Zhi was the same, dejected and lifeless.

Yes, we must not be complacent because of temporary success.

Great joy must be followed by great sorrow.