What does it have to do with you? What does it have to do with me? Exactly. One's own "other selves" were either simulated imprints or projections without sentience. One's true self was unique, so there was no need to worry about being lost amid the impact of the memories and emotions of countless "other selves."
If that was the case, then what relationship did another "self"—a completely identical "self"—have with oneself? He was him, and I was me!
Struck by this thunderous shout, Meng Qi felt as though he had torn away a layer of fog—the fog known as the barrier of perception. The view before him suddenly opened wide. Thoughts surged one after another without the slightest obstruction, and he faintly sensed the True Nature. His body and mind came alive, wondrous beyond words.
However, this had only cleared away the fog and revealed the road. As for how to "draw near," and how exactly to "draw near," it was still filled with hardships and dangers, with all kinds of wrong turns.
He pondered for a moment, then broke into a smile and slowly rose to his feet, cupping his hands.
"Thank you for your guidance, Senior."
"The third question is this: If everything you experienced in the past was a dream—the Madam was a dream, Huamei Villa was a dream, and the sword in your hand was a dream—how should you face it?"
"Ordinary illusions certainly cannot affect you, Senior. But what if you were in Amitabha Buddha's dreamworld? Everything you saw, heard, touched, and felt would be feedback from a dream. It would appear real, yet be illusory at its core. Zhuangzi's Butterfly Dream—was it Zhuangzi dreaming of becoming a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming that it had become Zhuangzi?"
Meng Qi disguised and presented the