"Disciple, you may leave," numerous disciples bowed and slowly walked out from the great hall.
Once everyone had left, the old Daoist then stood up and stepped down from the dais.
As he walked forward, his thin figure seemed to carry an aura of its own.
In his aged body was an endless majesty that was intimidating.
"Old Daoist, speak your mind directly, no need for beating around the bush," Xu Zimei responded.
"I cannot say," the old Daoist shook his head.
He pointed towards the firmament and replied, "Three feet above your head, there are deities."
"Do you believe in the Heavenly Dao?" Xu Zimei scoffed.
"Not believing, but we all cultivate under the Heavenly Dao; you have to believe even if you don't," the old Daoist replied.
"Who are you?" Xu Zimei asked.
"An old acquaintance, one you have forgotten," the old Daoist replied.
He scrutinized Xu Zimei thoroughly.
Saying, "You resemble him a lot, but I know, you are not him, and you can never be.
