Yin Ruozhuo understood everything he heard. His face shifted between green and pale, and his eyes, which had once seen through the ways of the world, began to fill with confusion.
Who exactly is right?
What exactly is the true Dao?
What exactly is my Dao? Could it be that I took the wrong path before?!
Having witnessed Ding Ling's overwhelming strength, as well as the immortal techniques and spells he had revealed so casually—methods far surpassing his own—Yin Ruozhuo was stunned by his divine might. As for Ding Ling's words, while he would not say he treated them as sacred doctrine, he did carefully ponder them.
Ding Ling was too strong!
A casual point of his finger had left him utterly powerless to resist.
A casual Wind Spell had been enough to drag him back from Hell to the Human Realm.
Before Ding Ling,
Yin Ruozhuo was like a newborn baby.
Thinking of the arrogant words he had spoken before Ding Ling when they first met,
Yin Ruozhuo could not help feeling his face burn. Although he had already attained the Dao and considered his state of mind flawless, free from the constraints of any person, flower, or blade of grass, before Ding Ling, he had instantly fallen from a God looking down upon the Human Realm to the dust, becoming an utterly insignificant ant.
Ding Ling looked at him as if he were an ant trying to shake a tree!
Yet Ding Ling had not killed him. Instead, he seemed to be offering him guidance?
Yin Ruozhuo pondered carefully, and could not help being moved:
"Could it be that Ding Ling's appearance is meant to break the old rules of this world?!"
After attaining the Dao,
he had been able to see certain destined outcomes.
But ever since