“If I told you that these followers are scattered across the globe, flawlessly hidden, ready to launch suicide attacks on the young master and his family at any moment, do you still think the law could protect him?”
“And if I told you that his enemy is a four-hundred-year-old monster with boundless magical powers and a ruthless heart, do you still think the law could protect him?”
Xiao Churan was utterly stunned and blurted out, “This, this is impossible! This is the real world, not a myth or legend. How could someone live for 400 years and possess boundless magical powers?”
As she spoke, she seemed to realise something. Her expression suddenly turned cold, and she said seriously, “If Butler Tang thinks I’m not good enough for Ye Chen, or if Ye Chen himself thinks I’m not good enough for him, you can just tell me directly. As long as you speak the truth, I, Xiao Churan, can walk away with nothing and no hesitation. But to fool me with such nonsense, don’t you think it’s a bit ridiculous?”
Tang Sihai gave a bitter smile, “You are Madam Ye, the young master’s lawful wife. For all these years, he endured so much humiliation in your family for your sake! Otherwise, even if the Ye family gave him no support, with his character, he’d rather carry bricks on a construction site, eating and sleeping there, and still find joy in it without a single complaint. How could he ever think you’re not good enough for him?”
Xiao Churan knew he spoke the truth, and her emotions softened slightly. She then asked, “So what’s the point of making up these stories?”
Tang Sihai sighed, as if ageing years in an instant, and said wistfully, “Madam Ye, this world has always been multifaceted. The world you live in is just one facet, so you don’t know the young master’s true identity. But even if you learned his true identity, that’s still only two facets of the world. There’s a third facet, where some people can live for hundreds of years without ageing and possess extraordinary abilities far beyond ordinary humans, like the myths and legends you’ve read, Eastern or Western. Many of those things aren’t just the fantasies of ancient people.”
Xiao Churan was dumbfounded, unsure whether to believe him or not.
From a rational perspective, Tang Sihai’s words were utterly far-fetched, with no credibility whatsoever. But from an emotional perspective, when Tang Sihai spoke, there wasn’t the slightest hint of deceit, only utmost sincerity.
Seeing her lingering doubts, Tang Sihai turned to Jingqing, who was standing nearby, and said, “Master Jingqing, you happen to reside in this third facet of the world. Would you kindly allow Madam Ye a glimpse?”
Jingqing nodded, pressed his palms together, and said to Xiao Churan, “Amitabha, since the benefactor does not believe, this humble monk will boldly show the benefactor what it means to cultivate the Dao.”
With that, he looked at a bouquet of flowers in the temple, offered by devotees a few days earlier.
Those flowers, grown in greenhouses, didn’t last long in the cold of winter. In just a day or two, they had wilted and faded, lifeless.
He stepped forward, gently picked up the bouquet, and returned to stand before Xiao Churan. Handing her the flowers, he asked, “May I ask the benefactor, do these flowers still have any life in them?”
Xiao Churan shook her head blankly, “They’ve withered to this state, how could they still have life?”
With a hint of regret, she sighed, “Flowers cut fresh like these, if kept in a warm place and placed in water, might last a few more days. But left in the temple like this, in such cold, they surely have no life left.”
Jingqing nodded, “Amitabha, the benefactor has compassion in her eyes, even for flowers and plants, this is great love.”
With that, he gathered the scant spiritual energy in his body to his fingertips, gently touched the bouquet in Xiao Churan’s hands, and said earnestly, “Benefactor, please look, life has returned!”
