138
The golden halo rose from the ground, rippling like water, casting the cavern in a majestic and solemn golden brilliance.
The world's great suffering seemed to melt away in the warm glow.
This was not condescension from on high, but an empathetic communion that held no hint of doubt, criticism, or mockery. It was pure compassion, nearly elevating to the noble sentiment of the Way.
The sea of suffering is hard to cross, endless and boundless.
Within the golden light, Wang Ran appeared like a saint untouched by affliction, an ark adrift on the sea of suffering, naturally inspiring those engulfed by hardship to foster a desire to follow.
Was Daoist Ji An in pain?
He was indeed!
Seventeen hundred years of planning collapsed at the last hurdle. The Little Cabbage he'd painstakingly reared had taken the Gourd of Immortal Slaying he provided and cut him into three pieces. All that remained was his head, seeking escape only to be kicked into a 'Z' shaped arc in the sky.