Hou Niao stood up. This Yu Household cultivator had singled him out not by coincidence, but deliberately. If this were solely about the personal life of a younger member of his lineage, it was taking things a little too far for a cultivator.
Cultivators should not concern themselves with such chicken-feather-and-garlic-skin trivialities. Nor were they mortals, who could cling to so-called love for a lifetime. The academy had countless beautiful fairies; even the two sitting beside Zhao Xintong were no less lovely. Why go to such lengths?
Could this be the real reason Daoist Xi had sent him to visit his relatives?
This Daoist Xi was no ordinary man. Hou Niao had already learned that in Liuyang.
Yu Wuxia extended a hand in invitation. "Then shall I display my meager talents first?"
His gaze swept across the gathering, and he asked aloud, "Can you tell me what this cart is carrying?"
"Wine!" the students answered in unison.
Yu Wuxia wore an inscrutable air. "...When a bottle is filled with fine wine, people say, 'This is wine.' When it is filled with tea, people say, 'This is tea.' Only when it is empty do people say, 'This is a bottle.'
"When your heart is filled with desire, you are no longer yourself."
In the illusion, the old man continued his arduous climb, his body almost parallel to the bridge's surface. As he staggered slightly, a bottle fell and shattered.
Hou Niao decided to approach it from another angle. "Even mortals have their own wisdom.
"The broken bottle might cost more than the old man would earn for this entire trip, yet he never looked back.
"Because he knew that however often he looked back, what was broken would remain broken.
"You must learn to accept and let go of what you