In the imperial prison, you had to learn to adapt to life, rather than make life adapt to you.
This was the rule most disciples guarding the prison lived by.
So everyone slacked off together.
Old Zhou was the oldest disciple among them and had been here for over two hundred years.
Supposedly, Old Zhou had originally been an exceptionally gifted disciple of his generation.
But certain upheavals had damaged his Dao heart.
Afterward, he had come to the prison, ringing the bell for each day he remained a monk.
Though Old Zhou was an old hand, he was a decent fellow.
When Li Ping'an first arrived, he had even made a point of advising him to think three times before acting.
Those three thoughts were: did it need doing? Could it be done tomorrow? Could someone else do it?
Li Ping'an could not help applauding.
To take slacking off to such heights-no one before or since could rival him.
Recently, however...
The disciples in the prison had all been feeling uncomfortable in their own skin.
Because a newcomer had arrived at the prison.
This should have been something worth celebrating.
After all, the prison had not seen a new face in years.
Yet this newcomer seemed somewhat different.
As a rule, during their first fortnight here, newcomers...
Could still maintain healthy habits and a positive outlook on life.
Before long, though, they would wallow in the same mire as everyone else.
They would either join the cricket-fighting crowd, delve into the art of board games, or sink into gambling.
Yet half a year had passed since Li Ping'an arrived at the prison.
And the fellow still maintained good habits.
He could clearly squander his time however he pleased, yet he spent it cultivating.
He had even begun studying the