Central Plains Confucian Temple.
Everyone inside, including the Sage of Ritual, looked toward the old scholar.
"Don't stop him!"
The old scholar spoke with finality, then softened his tone. "And we can't stop him anyway."
When the old scholar said that last sentence, he was looking at the Sage of Ritual.
The Sage of Ritual nodded.
Zhou Mi's golden body had merely been dragged into the human world; the foundations of his divine path remained closely linked to the new Heavenly Court. Chen Ping'an was the same. His dharma form had ascended, a single line had split open heaven, yet his dojo remained the human world.
There was no need to explain just how formidable Chen Ping'an was at present. One only needed to look at the Zhou Mi he had dragged out. Even with the Three Teachings Patriarch scattering their Dao, joined by Zhi Ci ascending to heaven, they had only managed to trap Zhou Mi, never able to suppress and erase him. In terms of true cultivation and killing power, Chen Ping'an was naturally far inferior to Zhou Mi. Yet this Heaven and Earth Connection was formidable precisely because it forced a head-on encounter on a narrow road. To use a somewhat inappropriate comparison, it was like a battlefield general from a family of hereditary officials, physically powerful and laden with military achievements, who had been set up. One day, without any attendants, he walked into a narrow alley. His status as a general was hollow, the troops under his command were hollow. In the end, he was blocked in a shabby lane by a knife-wielding, hotheaded youth. Just the two of them, deciding life and death!
Master Dong, leader of the Temple of Literature, asked, "Sage of Ritual, what was Chen Ping'an's original intention?"
The Sage of