People often live their lives striving to be different, yet end up living a life no different from others.
Just like leeks that keep growing, many who came after knew or didn't understand this principle, still fantasizing about making themselves strange, a notion often shared by ancient emperors.
When Zhang Jixian mentioned his unusual childhood, Zhao Ji and Li Bin were somewhat impatient, but seeing Mr. Shen responding calmly, Zhao Ji said, "I haven't heard the master talk about it."
Zhang Jixian smiled, "The right moment has not yet come."
Zhao Ji laughed, "The matter of fate is indeed wonderful beyond words."
Mr. Shen thought to himself, Zhao Ji thinks he is responding appropriately, but he doesn't realize that Zhang Jixian's true meaning is—telling you, Zhao Ji, is useless; if so, why bother saying it?
Zhang Jixian, considering Zhao Ji's face, seems to be an amiable person.
"I was born in Menggu Temple, and the locals say that before I was five, I hardly spoke."
