Fate was an incredibly mysterious thing. Sometimes, if you did not open your mouth and ask a few questions, a splendid affinity would slip past you on the spot.
That was why monks traveled the four corners of the world, begging for alms as their main pursuit and going with the flow as a supplement. Often, after asking and asking, fate would arrive.
Xiang Yuan was not a monk, but he understood the logic behind their ways.
If the benefactor did not understand Buddhist teachings, this little monk also knew a little about fists and feet.
To elaborate: opportunities depended on the mind, luck depended on cheek, fortune depended on courage, success or failure depended on methods. If you did not take the initiative, why would Heaven favor you?
And there it was—Xiang Yuan said two more sentences, and the Blood Sea Golden Lotus came to him.
"Your golden lotus is quite nice. It's mine now!"
Three heads and six arms, feet planted on a golden lotus—the lead doubi spoke with a savage visage. Raising a hand, he drew out the Water-Subduing Iron Sword he had obtained through alms-begging.
To either side, Steady pressed his palms together and spoke the Thunder Sound Great Method. Cold Blood's formless figure wielded the Rouge Sword, venting the sea of decay. Feeling that something was missing behind him, Glimmer and Flowing Shadow emerged from between his brows, manifesting a diagram of yin-yang swimming fish behind him and pretending to be a Merit Golden Wheel.
The dark crimson universe stretched from sky to earth, with the three-headed, six-armed figure standing atop the golden lotus at its center. Neither Daoist nor Buddhist, it also carried a hint of Heavenly Devil bearing, leaving the empty-handed blood-robed figure utterly stunned.
Silent, without a single mosquito!
The blood-robed figure