Within the hallowed halls of the Guiyuan Sect’s apothecary, a scene unfolded unseen by any disciple. The Southern Garden, a forbidden sanctuary, remained untouched by prying feet, even those of Lü Yanfei and her like, who dared not trespass without summons.

Word of Wang Lin’s deeds, the swift vanquishing of an eighth-level beast, the humbling of sixth-level cultivators from the Three Sects, had elevated him in the eyes of the Guiyuan Sect’s disciples to a figure akin to a revered ancestor, deserving of their utmost awe.

Lu Yuncong’s visage was a mask of tormented unease as he stood before Wang Lin. His body swayed, caught in a dilemma of forward and retreat. The serene gaze of the white-robed man before him held the weight of collapsing skies with each step forward, and the shattering of his very Dao with each step back. It was as though his understanding of the Path was nothing more than a child’s plaything, laid bare and understood by this seemingly ordinary figure.

Beads of sweat trickled down Lu Yuncong’s brow. Never in his life had he encountered such a profound presence, one that could twist reality itself into illusion, or summon it into tangible existence with a mere whim. A chilling notion took root within his heart: “He sits there, and *he is* the Dao!”

The silence was broken by Li Qianmei’s voice, soft and melodious, infused with a refined grace that settled the mind. As Wang Lin’s gaze shifted from Lu Yuncong to her, a wave of relief washed over the man, who retreated several paces, his face still clouded with a storm.

Wang Lin regarded Li Qianmei with unwavering eyes. Her true cultivation remained veiled, yet he could discern the power of the Shattered Nirvana Realm hidden beneath her fair countenance. “Who are you, Daoist friend?” he asked, his voice calm, yet his spirit on high alert.

A gentle breeze stirred, causing strands of Li Qianmei’s hair to dance across her exquisite features. With a delicate gesture, she tucked them behind her ear and replied, “I am Li Qianmei of the Shattered Sky Sect.”

“And what brings you here, Daoist Li?” Wang Lin inquired, his expression unchanged, though his mind raced.

Li Qianmei offered a subtle smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I come seeking answers to three questions, to unravel the mysteries that plague my mind.”

“And what compels me to offer you such wisdom?” Wang Lin responded plainly.

Li Qianmei pondered for a moment, her composure unruffled. “Perhaps I could grace you with a melody played on my flute.”

“Unnecessary,” Wang Lin dismissed, a subtle furrow appearing on his brow.

“Then, perhaps I could resolve the matter between you and the Violet Dao Sect,” Li Qianmei suggested, her smile unwavering.

“Unnecessary,” he repeated.

A hint of vexation touched Li Qianmei’s expression as she explained, “You misunderstand, Daoist friend. Lu and I merely crossed paths on our journeys, and finding myself with time to spare, I accompanied him here. I have no intention of interfering in your dispute with the Violet Dao Sect. I merely seek answers to three questions that have long eluded me, nothing more.”

Her voice resonated with sincerity, as she dispelled Wang Lin’s assumptions of collusion with Lu Yuncong.

Wang Lin studied her intently, his brow furrowed in thought. “What manner of questions do you seek answered?” he finally asked.

“Those that concern the Dao,” Li Qianmei replied, her smile returning.

“One question, one item of value in return,” Wang Lin stated plainly.

Lu Yuncong, overhearing this exchange, could not help but grimace. He had never considered demanding a price from Li Qianmei for her riddles, choosing instead to bask in the pleasure of her flute melodies, seeking to foster an amicable relationship.

Li Qianmei seemed surprised for only a moment, then nodded with a graceful laugh. “If you can indeed enlighten me, then it is fair.”

“Ask,” Wang Lin responded, glancing down at the eighth-level elixir in his hand, his tone indifferent.

“Daoist friend,” Li Qianmei began, her eyes shining with anticipation, “my first question is this: What is Heaven?” She had found Lu Yuncong’s answer, that Heaven was a cage, to be the most satisfactory she had heard thus far, and she was eager to hear the perspective of this seemingly ordinary man of extraordinary power.

Not only Li Qianmei but even Lu Yuncong watched with bated breath, eager to witness the response of one so steeped in the Dao. Lu Yuncong had long believed his own answer to be perfect, the very reason Li Qianmei had deemed him worthy of a second question.

Upon hearing Li Qianmei’s inquiry, Wang Lin smiled softly, his eyes fixed upon her, but offering no immediate response.

Perplexed by Wang Lin’s amusement, Li Qianmei patiently awaited his reply. Lu Yuncong, however, frowned, unable to decipher the meaning behind the young man’s smile. He saw in it a hint of mockery and disdain.

“Ask your second question,” Wang Lin said after a moment, shaking his head.

“You have yet to offer an answer! What *is* Heaven?” Lu Yuncong pressed, his voice insistent.

“Oh? And what, pray tell, do you believe Heaven to be?” Wang Lin retorted, glancing at Lu Yuncong with an air of nonchalance.

“Heaven is a cage! The mouth of a well is Heaven, the surface of water is Heaven!” Lu Yuncong proclaimed, his voice calm but laced with confidence.

Li Qianmei remained silent, her brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, she spoke, “I have asked this question of many Daoist friends along my path, yet only Lu’s answer has resonated with me, sparking a sense of shared understanding. Why did you smile earlier? Was there something amiss with my question?”

Wang Lin studied Li Qianmei for a long moment before replying, “Does Heaven truly exist?”

The question stunned Li Qianmei. Never before had she encountered such a response. Even Lu Yuncong was taken aback, his eyes instinctively lifting to the sky above.

“Absurd! Heaven surrounds us all! How can you claim it does not exist?” Lu Yuncong scoffed.

Li Qianmei, however, seemed intrigued. She paused, then asked, “Why not?”

Without a word, Wang Lin raised his right hand and made a sweeping gesture. A gentle breeze swirled around the apothecary’s courtyard, tracing a circle upon the ground around Li Qianmei and Lu Yuncong.

“This circle is the Heaven you believe to exist. If you hold Heaven in your heart, then it will inevitably manifest. You perceive yourselves as mere ants trapped within the cage of Heaven and Earth, struggling to break free. This is your Path, your belief. But what purpose does it serve, even if you were to step outside that circle?” Wang Lin shook his head, then swept his hand once more, drawing another circle, wider than the first.
“Whether you emerge or remain, this day always comes. The cycle of cause and effect grinds on, without end, until… until the Heaven you hold in your heart obliterates you, grinds you into dust upon the face of the earth. This is the great lie of Heaven! A truth I began to ponder centuries ago. So, I ask you, why must there even *be* a Heaven?” Wang Lin finished, and sat serenely, offering no further words.

Lu Yuncong shuddered, as if struck by a thunderbolt to the crown of his head. His ears rang, filled with the deafening roar of celestial thunder. He instinctively stumbled back, crossing the first circle, yet still trapped within the second. He stared, dazed, at the two luminous rings that encircled him, Wang Lin’s words echoing in his mind. “The lie of Heaven…”

His face paled, his thoughts in turmoil. The principles he had dedicated his life to crumbled before him, cracks appearing in his very Dao. He longed to refute the white-robed man’s assertions, but found himself utterly powerless.

The two circles around him seemed to expand, infinitely growing until they became the Heaven within his heart, a cage from which he could not escape. He exerted all his strength, stepping beyond the first prison, only to discover, with dawning horror, that he remained imprisoned… within another.

The sheer, alien nature of this realization drained all color from his face. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and a wry, bitter smile twisted his lips.

Li Qianmei silently closed her eyes, her own spirit shaken. Wang Lin’s words transformed into shimmering runes, dancing within her consciousness, etching themselves deep within her soul.

She had believed her confusion regarding the Dao to be like a persistent storm cloud. She had sought answers from many, but none had offered solace. Only Lu Yuncong’s words had struck her like a lightning bolt, momentarily dispersing the shadows.

But now she understood. Lu Yuncong’s understanding of the Dao was laughably inadequate! He had fallen completely prey to the lies of Heaven, unable to break free.

Now, Wang Lin’s voice crashed upon her like a tidal wave, two invisible hands sweeping away her confusion and doubts, revealing a clear, boundless sky. Her eyelashes fluttered, and Li Qianmei opened her eyes, gazing at Wang Lin for a long moment, a look of profound respect in her gaze. “May this humble Qianmei know your name, honored Daoist brother?” she asked softly, bowing slightly.

“Wang Lin.” His voice remained calm, unburdened by emotion.

“Brother Wang’s Daoist insight has been most illuminating. Qianmei would dare to ask a second question, and begs Brother Wang for further enlightenment…” Li Qianmei’s eyes, bright and clear as crystal, held his gaze.

“Before answering, I require the most potent elixir you possess.” Wang Lin turned his gaze towards Li Qianmei.

Li Qianmei blinked, then giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. The girlish gesture was surprisingly captivating, but Lu Yuncong, lost in his despair, remained oblivious. And Wang Lin, though he saw it, remained unmoved.

“Brother Wang misjudges me. The majority of the elixirs I carry are only half-refined, requiring the furnaces of my sect to complete their creation. The most potent finished elixir I possess is only tenth-grade, and not a Soul Severance Pill, but rather a vital essence restoring elixir, a Jade Radiance Pill. Since Brother Wang requests it, it is yours to command.” As she spoke, she reached out with her right hand, creating a shimmering spatial rift. From within, a sealed wax pill emerged, which she offered to Wang Lin.

Wang Lin frowned, accepted the pill, examined it briefly, and then stored it away.

“Qianmei’s second question… What *is* Heaven?” Li Qianmei’s eyes shone with an almost feverish intensity, her heart pounding in anticipation of Wang Lin’s reply.

She had never felt this way before. Even when Lu Yuncong had answered her previous questions, though she had hoped for enlightenment, she had not felt this fervent anticipation.

Upon hearing Li Qianmei’s second question, Wang Lin lifted his gaze towards the azure sky, a hint of melancholy coloring his expression. He spoke softly, “The first question concerned the limits of Daoist principles. The second… concerns the very Will of Heaven itself…”

At these words, Li Qianmei’s eyes burned brighter still. She stared at Wang Lin, mesmerized. He was the first she had encountered who had truly understood the profoundly different meanings hidden within two seemingly similar questions!

Lu Yuncong, having taken a deep breath to calm his shattered spirit, froze upon hearing Wang Lin’s words. He finally understood why, despite his seemingly flawless answer to the second question, he had been deemed unworthy to even attempt the third.