They were all excellent, but I refused.
Some things were easy to say, but not so easy to do, even with a colleague's example to learn from.
I hadn't spoken much with Old Master Li, but imagining some of the situations that might have unfolded, I still felt a deep respect for him.
This was a further step into the extraordinary world, nothing like ordinary fame and fortune.
Even phrases like "worldly possessions" and "you can't take it with you when you die" no longer applied. This was a genuine transcendence, a difference as great as that between an earthworm and a human.
What's more, Old Master Li seemed to have grasped some of the true meaning of the Heavenly Dao. It was possible he'd broken free of the mortal shackles altogether.
It was hard to say whether the Night Watchers had lent him a hand, but making such a decision on his own was already a remarkable feat.
Also, could Jining's dissatisfaction with Old Master Li have something to do with this?
Suddenly resigning from a high-ranking position was one thing. For a high-tier extraordinary being with boundless prospects to suddenly waste away the years—that was a serious matter of ambition.
And given Old Master Li's style, once he'd promised to keep something strictly confidential, he probably wouldn't tell anyone else the truth. It was easy to imagine how a misunderstanding might take root and linger.
For example, Jining might not have been hoping her husband would become a great success. Perhaps she'd worried that Old Master Li was forcing himself to seem cheerful and had tried to comfort him.
But without telling her the truth, he could never convince her that her efforts had worked.
All in all, it fit the complicated state of their relationship.
Of course,