A Pot Fell from the Heavens, Utterly Unlucky

The highest good is like water; water is good at benefiting all things without contending.

The current Shen Yun had long since lost the heart to compete and fight for supremacy. Breaking records, making history—these things were nothing but drifting clouds to him, not worth wasting time on at all.

Upon the throne, Daoist Jietian gave a slight nod, secretly praising him in his heart: A face like a level lake, a chest holding thunder. This child is truly remarkable.

At first, he had sensed someone observing him, which was why he had cast over a thread of his gaze.

By common sense, when ordinary Heavenly Prides faced his scrutiny, they would reveal some timidity to some degree; even those with a firm Dao Heart would inevitably feel somewhat constrained.

Shen Yun, however, was entirely different.

That was not forced composure, but calm from the bottom of his heart, like an ancient well without ripples, without the slightest wave to be seen.

Such an abnormal performance naturally drew Daoist Jietian's attention, and what surprised him even more was that this young man was even more unfathomable than he had imagined.

"Perhaps even if Five Thousand Stars came out together, they still wouldn't be able to do anything to him."

Daoist Jietian murmured, a trace of barely perceptible anticipation flashing through his eyes.

The coming trial seemed to have become interesting.

On the other side.

When Shen Yun returned once more, the gazes cast at him from all around were already utterly different.

Astonishment, apprehension, disbelief... all kinds of emotions intertwined, fully displaying the hundred postures of living beings.

It could be said that Shen Yun had completely risen to fame, leaving behind an indelible impression.

"If brother Shen wants to keep a low profile from now on, I fear