"Disciples, withdraw." The many disciples bowed, then slowly left the great hall.
Only after everyone had departed did the Old Daoist rise and walk down from the high platform step by step.
As he approached, his frail figure seemed to carry an aura of its own.
Within his aged body lay boundless majesty, inspiring fear.
"Old Daoist, just say what you want to say. There's no need to beat around the bush," Xu Zimo replied.
"I cannot say it." The Old Daoist shook his head.
Pointing toward the heavens, he said, "Three feet above one's head, there are gods watching."
"You believe in the Heavenly Dao?" Xu Zimo sneered.
"I do not, but we all cultivate beneath the Heavenly Dao. Whether you believe or not, you have no choice but to believe," the old Daoist said.
"Who are you?" Xu Zimo asked.
"An old friend. An old friend you have forgotten," the old Daoist said.
He carefully examined Xu Zimo.
Then he said, "You resemble him greatly, but I know you are not him. You never could be.
"He died. Once dead, he was dead forever.
"Even if he returned, he could never be him again."
"I don't understand what you're saying." Xu Zimo shook his head.
"What era is it now?" the old Daoist asked.
"I'm not very sure either. I heard that the Middle Ancient Era has just passed, and it is now the New Calendar Year," Xu Zimo replied.
Miss Mirror had told him about the division of eras before.
After the Middle Ancient Era, the Nine Domains were divided into the Old Calendar Year and the New Calendar Year.
"What came before the Middle Ancient Era?" the old Daoist continued.
"The Ancient Era," Xu Zimo replied.
"And before the Ancient Era?"
"The Remote Ancient Era. Before