"Truly insidious," Yang Qing softly said as his gaze fell on the heart-quenching mulberry dew. "Just like the instructors," he added with a wry smile, shaking his head slightly to wave away the lingering image of Ma Yuan's departing smile and the lifeless body of his daughter, Ma Ling.
Yang Qing took a small sip of his wine, his gaze growing distant as he attempted to sort out his mind and heart in the wake of what he had seen. A few seconds later, he sighed, the heaviness in his gaze lifting.
"We may have god-like abilities, but we are not gods. We are but twigs being guided by the flowing current of life, with the only difference between us and those who cannot cultivate being that we see more than they do. But when it comes to deciding how the river flows, we are just as helpless as they are. You can only do what you can do. Make peace with that..." Yang Qing murmured.
