Ling Jiuxiao knew this disciple of his like the back of his hand.
Not only was he extraordinarily gifted and exceptionally clever, he was also skilled at judging the situation and nipping hidden dangers in the bud.
However, Jun Ling Yuan was like all the other clever people in the world—far too arrogant. He always believed that everything was already on the chessboard, and that he alone was the one moving the pieces.
"Master, this disciple was wrong!"
Jun Ling Yuan bowed deeply without offering any excuse. His attitude was humble down to the bone.
Yet beneath those lowered eyelids, there was not the slightest trace of remorse.
In his view, a peerless genius like Shen Yun had to be dealt with swiftly and decisively. He absolutely could not be given time to develop.
"Striking first is the true way." Jun Ling Yuan was utterly resolute.
With a single glance, Ling Jiuxiao saw through his thoughts. His tone was as placid as still water. "Ling Yuan, have you ever planted a field with your own hands?"
Jun Ling Yuan slightly furrowed his brows. Though he did not understand why, he still answered truthfully. "I have not."
At this, Ling Jiuxiao's voice turned ethereal as he slowly recounted an old story:
"I was born among common folk. My family was poor when I was young, and I once followed my father into the fields to help with the planting."
"I remember the first time I transplanted rice seedlings. I saw my father step backward one step at a time, and could not help asking, 'Isn't it easy to fall if you walk backward like that?'"
"My father straightened up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and pointed ahead of him. 'Look. Every time I take one step back, another row of