He could naturally do it, and do it well, but such a method did not quite accord with Lu Qing's true heart.
After all, comprehending the Dao hearts of others also meant that one's own Dao heart would have to relinquish something, more or less.
As for how others' fates unfolded, he had always defined himself as a cultivator.
What he contemplated was the Dao opportunity within the great Dao of heaven and earth; what he watched were the surging waves in every long river of fate, the bursts of fate's Dao opportunity.
Now, every intangible, formless fate within this stretch of time was like spiritual inspiration that existed everywhere. With a turn of thought, Lu Qing could construct countless such fates.
The waves stirred up by these fates gradually entered his eyes, gathering into an equally vast and boundless mighty river.
The endless fates within were like ink-clouds spilled and spreading apart. As they drifted unpredictably, they carried a sense of fate's impermanence.
Lu Qing looked toward this long river.
One by one, he examined those who had been reborn.
The waves their fates stirred up were vastly different.
Faced with rebirth and a return to past years, the disturbances they created were different as well.
He saw some become powerful.
He also saw some grow complacent and satisfied, losing the caution they had possessed in their previous lives. They failed to reach the heights of cultivation they had attained before, only to be suddenly slain by old enemies, their paths collapsing midway.
Likewise, some lost all desire to seek immortality and pursue the Dao after being reborn.
Instead, they chose to return to the mortal world, living a carefree life of wealth and leisure until the end of their days.
Lu Qing gave that person another look.
He