"I heard people say you suddenly appeared two hundred years ago, and almost at the very same time, the Nine Immortals Palace Master disappeared. What connection, exactly, is there between the two?" Lin Xuan's voice entered his ears once more.
"A man about to die—why ask so many questions? Or do you think that by dragging things out like this, some turning point will appear?" Flower Ancestor's cold laugh reached his ears, his face full of mockery. "I have no mood to waste words with you here. Will you bind your own hands and surrender, or shall I do it myself? If you know what's good for you, hand over your Nascent Soul. I can spare your spirit. That way, a hundred years from now, fellow Daoist, you may still have a chance to reenter the Six Paths of Reincarnation."
Lin Xuan smiled. "If fellow Daoist is unwilling to say, that's fine. You asked me how I choose, so Lin can tell you now as well: whether binding my hands and surrendering or falling here, Lin has not the slightest interest in either. Why don't we look at it from another angle? Fellow Daoist, hand your life over to me—what do you think?"
For any other immortal cultivator of the same rank, the situation before him would indeed have been disadvantageous in the extreme. But in Lin Xuan's eyes, it simply did not matter at all. To say that the divine abilities he cultivated were of the wood attribute was not wrong, but unfortunately that was taking one part for the whole. That referred only to the Nine Heavens Profound Art. Lin Xuan's learning was broad and varied; the wondrous arts and strange abilities he knew were far from limited to that one alone.
So what if it was a