Compared with his money-grubbing senior brother, Xiao Yun seemed exceptionally pure, as pure as a blank sheet of paper.
"Xiao Yun, you just said you wanted to cultivate the Dao. Do you know what the Dao is?" Ye Chen asked softly, adjusting the little Taoist's hat.
"Mm, the Dao? Master never told me about it."
Watching Xiao Yun shake his little head, Ye Chen rubbed his temples. That was right—Xiao Yun was still so young. How could he know what the Dao was? Seeing how utterly perplexed the boy looked, Ye Chen realized he'd messed up. At Xiao Yun's age, he should be living carefree, not dwelling on all these complicated questions.
But now he'd brought up the Dao, and with a child's nature, Xiao Yun would surely keep asking questions. It could affect how he grew up.
Ye Chen wanted to slap himself. He was acting like an idiot, pretending to be some great authority when he didn't even know what the Dao was.
Just as he was about to change the subject and distract Xiao Yun,
Xiao Yun clasped his hands and said softly,
"Oh, I've got it!"
"I think my Dao should be all the people under heaven, because I want the whole world to become a better place. Don't you think so, big brother?"
The young, delicate face tilted up at Ye Chen with a cheerful smile.
Looking at that pure, paper-white face, Ye Chen didn't know what to say.
A little Taoist's goal was to help all the people under heaven. And what about him? He'd asked himself countless times and still didn't know what his goal was. Somehow, he'd come to this world, somehow acquired a system, and somehow embarked on this Journey to the West. What was he even doing all this for?