The jellyfish blazed with light, illuminating half the little room. The light and shadow of the Dragon Spirit Silk shifted, while the Blue Cat and Brown Rat circled the pillars. It had been lively and boisterous, yet before anyone noticed, all sound vanished, turning it into a silent play.
No one on either side watched seriously. Ta Ta Kai yawned, tossed up both paws, stuck out his belly, and leaned against the blanket.
One hundred taels for singing through one night at most. No one was watching anyway—could they really forbid a ta from slacking off?
The maid lowered her head in dejection.
She could not understand the conversation between the immortal and the King of Huai, and now she could not even watch a Shadow Play.
"What is above form is called the Dao; what is below form is called the vessel..."
The Sacred Emperor pondered.
Liang Qu was secretly delighted. He watched the immortal go from lying down to propping himself up, from propping himself up to sitting upright, and then assuming a proper posture with his brush in hand, seriously considering the draft of his technique.
It worked!
Could something dashed off carelessly possibly match something written in earnest? Could the results possibly be the same? Making the immortal sit up meant his words had not been wasted. If he had not said something genuinely substantial, the immortal would never have become so serious.
What a profit.
He racked his brains and squeezed out every scrap of political theory he had learned, chewing it over as he spoke.
He roughly guessed why the immortal had asked him this. Once cultivation reached the Furnace realm, everything one possessed had already reached its peak. In such a state, the more one wanted to accomplish something, the more one concerned