He gazed at his gradually reddening palm, comprehending the power that had been lost and regained.
"I have returned."
"The legacy…"
"As your teacher, I'm not old yet. How can I not lead you on the path once more?"
The chubby elderly man beamed even more brightly.
......
Not only here.
The phantom of the True Man wandered under the night sky like a ghost.
He wandered aimlessly, every act of his being a blessing. Whomever received the blessing was entirely a matter of fate.
A gravely ill, dying little beggar traded thirty years of life to be completely cured of his ailment.
There was an elder with white hair and a life filled with hardships who traded sixty years of spiritual cultivation that amounted to nothing for another thirty years of life.
Then there was one with astonishing enlightenment who had been stagnant for years,
