Surely someone must have achieved enlightenment in the past to leave behind these sayings.
Wen Yan now really enjoys this feeling—clearly not cultivating, not exploring a path, not even knowing the exact location or route, not even the order.
But there is a firm feeling inside that, yes, I understand.
He is very sure; he is not wrong.
Wen Yan opened his eyes and saw the unread messages on his phone, feeling as if he had just witnessed a firework display, but over twenty minutes had passed.
He looked at the still-unconscious Tuoba Martial God, took a step back, and bowed to Tuoba Martial God.
"Thank you."
Even though I know he can recover, the suffering he endured wasn't fake.
The panic during bloody urination, like eating too many chili peppers that didn't burn the back but burned the front, wasn't fake either.
The desperate effort needed to barely maintain breathing when suffocating, resembling a drowning sensation, wasn't fake either.
