"Taoist Priest, you say, why has it come to this?"
Gazing at the Monk who once was full of spirit and now reduced to this state, Yi Chen sighed deeply in his heart and took a large gulp of alcohol before saying,
"The Buddha's Disciple is not wrong, if you must say there is a mistake, it is only that the Buddha's Disciple lacks experience."
"Shen Hui, you are too idealistic in your thinking."
Yi Chen said each word deliberately while looking into Shen Hui's lifeless eyes.
If it were a matter of debating scriptures, ten Yi Chens would be no match for Shen Hui—who could only entangle and confuse with the tactics of an internet gentleman's six arts—but when it comes to practical matters, ten Shen Huis would not be enough to beat a single Yi Chen.
"If the Taoist Priest were in my shoes, I wonder how you would act? How could I save the root cause of all this?"
Faced with Yi Chen's response, a flicker of emotion finally surfaced in the dead stillness of Shen Hui's eyes.
