Wu Qian stared blankly at Su Mo, then nodded gently.
"Do you have any other instructions, young master?"
Su Mo raised his head to the sky and drew a deep breath. "Tell the Four Sage elders..."
"To prepare for a great battle..."
Su Mo's words were soft, yet they seemed immensely heavy.
That weightless sentence seemed like a mountain suddenly pressing down on Wu Qian's shoulders.
Against whom... In the end, Wu Qian never asked those words.
She was extraordinarily clever and seemed to have guessed something already... Back when she had gone to the Imperial Dynasty to sound out Ji Ting, she had entertained the same suspicion.
She simply could not be certain.
Wu Qian withdrew. Su Mo gazed at the Universe, his expression more solemn than ever before.
Peach blossoms danced across the sky, setting off that wisp of white, as though adding a touch of sorrow to Su Mo.
Nearby, Hui Kong slowly rose beneath the peach tree.
"Amitabha..."
Su Mo turned to Hui Kong and asked calmly, "Hui Kong, would you divine my fortune again?"
"Am I right or wrong to act this way?"
Hui Kong shook his head. "The Buddha was fashioned by the heart itself; why seek him in the reading of fate?"
"You have never needed another's divination to seek your own heart, young friend."
Su Mo lowered his head and said in a low voice, "But I can be afraid too. Perhaps the world does not need this truth."
Hui Kong walked over to Su Mo, crouched down, picked up a fallen blossom, and held it out before him.
"Lovely as this blossom is, a day will come when it turns to dust."
"The people of this world cannot see that blossoms have already rotted beneath the fallen flowers. They see only