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Time was short, so the group decided to set off that very day.
Su Yi didn’t have anything to pack, but A’Li returned to her residence and gathered a few of her belongings.
Practically all of them were ordinary goods, like a change of clothes, a wooden hairpin, and her spear.
She also brought a pair of newly woven straw sandals.
In a cultivator’s eyes, her stuff was a pile of trash. A’Ning’s heart ached at the sight of it. My little sister has had it far too rough over the years.
“A’Li, you don’t need any of that stuff. I’ll buy you the best from now on,” A’Ning said gently.
A’Li froze, stunned, but she was clearly reluctant. She muttered, “Throwing them out would be such a shame.”
“You really can’t throw them out,” said Su Yi. “Hold onto them. Ideally… for the rest of your life.”
His tone was rife with meaning.
These ordinary goods were proof of the years A’Li had spent in poverty, and they carried the memories of those years.
Cultivating the Grand Dao was like sailing across an endless ocean. In the face of authority, desire, treasure, and beauty, most cultivators lost sight of their fundamental natures.
If A’Li...
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