The middle-aged cultivator felt ashamed upon hearing this:
"My aptitude is poor, perhaps I have no hope of Crossing Tribulation."
The gaunt elder sighed lightly upon hearing this:
"It's not that you are dull-witted, but your mental strength is limited. You are occupied with mundane matters and also had to support the Sect alone while I was seriously injured. It clouded your mind, delaying your Cultivation... it's also my fault."
"The Patriarch has never been at fault."
The middle-aged cultivator quickly responded.
At this moment, a commotion suddenly came from a distance, followed by the child's cry of surprise:
"The Ancestor hasn't summoned you, you can't go in!"
"Step aside."
A somewhat cold voice replied unceremoniously.
"No way! I will not step aside!"
The child retorted angrily.
The gaunt elder frowned.
Looking at the middle-aged cultivator, he asked in confusion:
"What's happening?"
