"Many people died because of me."
Zheng Qing thought of the Slender Red Heavenly Pillar he had pushed over, and of what the professor had just said: when people died, their lights went out, and there was nothing left. He felt even more distressed.
"How do you know you didn't save even more people?"
The professor apparently disagreed with his assessment of himself and asked in return, "I said death is cruel because I hoped you would seriously reflect on what you've experienced during this time. Don't be overly anxious, and don't doubt or deny yourself."
"In this world, judging a person or an event is extremely complicated and difficult."
"Sometimes, you need to judge whether a person is good or bad, or whether something succeeded or failed, by its outcome. But sometimes, you also need to judge a person based on their original intentions. Looking at the world dialectically is the most appropriate, most reliable, and relatively most impartial attitude."
"No gold is perfectly pure, and no person is without flaws. No one is a sage; who can be free of mistakes?"
"If someone gives you a position in advance when introducing a person or an event to you—for example, saying that person is utterly evil, that event is terrible, or that result is dreadful—then you need to immediately remain cautious and alert. What others want you to know may not necessarily be the whole picture."
As he spoke, the professor somehow produced two small blue-and-white porcelain bowls. He pushed one toward Zheng Qing and held the other in his own hand. The young wizard lifted the lid from his bowl and found it filled with warm soup, clear and bright. In the morning light, strings of tiny oil droplets could be seen rolling and dancing at the bottom.