The living beings wore a hundred different expressions: some slept soundly, some sat transfixed in contemplation, some frowned in confusion, some fidgeted restlessly, some suddenly opened up, while others wore peaceful faces and faint smiles at the corners of their lips.
Each gained something different from what they heard and felt; what they comprehended and grasped depended entirely on their innate capacity, karmic fortune, and destiny. It could not be forced, nor could it be bestowed by another.
Su Yang's exposition of the Dao progressed from shallow to profound, from near to far. How much the listeners could absorb depended entirely on the depth of their own wisdom roots and the weight of their karma. When water reached its course, a channel naturally formed; it could not be forced.
Dong...
At the sound of the bell chime, before its lingering echoes had faded, the voice of the Great Dao abruptly ceased. The living beings slowly awoke, their heart-lakes crystal clear, no longer harboring any savage or stubborn thoughts. Only an aura as gentle as spring and as soothing as rain quietly flowed between their brows.
They looked at each other in silent speechlessness, then departed calmly in groups of two or three.
Su Yang remained seated upright on his meditation cushion, his eyes lightly closed and his entire aura completely withdrawn, remote as utter stillness. In a daze, even that familiar tranquil aura spoken of in Buddhism's realm of great extinction seemed to quietly vanish, leaving not a trace behind.
His whole body abruptly lost all vitality, like withered wood, silent as death.
At the same time, within the Primordial World, Su Yang's Heavenly Dao Stage main body displayed the same condition. Seated upon a meditation cushion woven from pure jade grass, he had no breath, no pulse, as if