Zhang Lindao looked into the distant northern expanse, as if gazing through the vast and boundless snow of the world straight at a sleeping man. He smiled slightly.
"Not saving your master is a wrong choice you ought to make.
Yet saving your master is a wrong choice born of following your true heart."
"Why are all the choices wrong?" Yang Miaozhen asked in bewilderment. Yet she knew that her master possessed profound Daoist arts and calculated everything without error; such words must carry a reason, even if they were beyond her comprehension.
Chapter 115