Who Was the Heavenly Dao?

Zhishou looked at Hanyu, still struggling, and spoke slowly.

"The force that pulled you in was the countless beings beneath your feet!"

"The masses are not weak!"

This was the second time Zhishou had reminded him.

"I might not do a good job. I might not even have the ability to take charge."

Hanyu smiled bitterly. Just one weakling like Li Yingqi had nearly forced him to trade his life for his opponent's.

Who knew how many weaklings like that there were in Yanluo Hall? And as for the stronger cultivators, he could barely fight back against them.

"Take it slow. Don't rush."

Rarely, Zhishou comforted him. "You've already done very well."

"I'm just an ordinary man from the Central Continent..."

Hanyu wore a troubled expression. He didn't even know how to respond to the masses.

"Ask yourself: do you want to open your eyes or keep them shut? The choice is yours."

Zhishou didn't press him. After speaking, he quietly turned his gaze toward the ground below.

Hanyu wrestled with himself, now looking down at the masses, now caught in a tangle of conflicting thoughts.

He wasn't stupid. If the masses had a request of him, then surely they could send him back.

But could he really accept their kneeling with a clear conscience?

"Can't they stand up first?"

Hanyu sighed and asked Zhishou.

Zhishou smiled and shook his head. "Once you've made your choice, they'll naturally stand."

"Oh, and no matter what you choose, you can go back. You can rest easy about that."

This, too, was the masses' way of repaying him.

Now, all that remained was Hanyu's decision.

After a long while, Hanyu silently straightened his robes, bowed with the Daoist fist-and-palm salute, and bent deeply at the waist.

"I, too, am one of the masses."