Human consciousness was immensely rich, and emotional awareness was the richest of all. Wang Ping had cultivated from an ordinary person to the Fifth Realm; naturally, beneath that depth of humanity lay a desire for more emotional bonds.
Yet there were only a handful of people in this world who could stir his emotions. There was no need to mention Yulian. Then there was Liu Shuang, whom he had personally taught and watched grow up. As for Shen Xiaozhu, his Personal Disciple, what he felt most toward her was expectation.
At first, Wang Ping had merely thought Hu Qianqian suited Daoist cultivation and possessed the right karmic opportunity. She was also a member of the Demon Race, which piqued his curiosity, and so he had accepted her as a Registered Disciple.
Xia Weny, meanwhile, was a matter of human sentiment. But in the end, Xia Weny called him Master, so Wang Ping naturally had to look after him.
Xuan Ling was in much the same situation as Xia Weny.
As for the many other disciples, they had gradually drifted away from him for all sorts of reasons. That was their choice, but it was also karmic consequence born of Wang Ping's lax guidance. Though he never spoke of it, he still felt regret in his heart. As he had said before, they had called him Master after all. Only those who had lived through it could understand that feeling.
Wang Ping invited his disciples to sit and personally brewed tea for them. Yulian arrived on clouds with the Sanhua cat in her arms, occasionally joining the conversation. The sense of distance quickly faded by more than half, but the chasm between Master and Disciples was now simply too vast. Even with Wang Ping's warm smile, his disciples still felt tremendous