Yi Lin's question seemed to strike at the core.
Ku Ye Zen Master resumed tapping the wooden fish, falling into silence.
After a moment, Ku Ye Zen Master's eyes fell upon Yi Lin's face, examining for a short while, and then said, "He has the heart of an innocent child and is destined for a connection with my Buddha."
"But the person you're looking at is me."
Yi Lin smiled.
"He is like two poles with you." Ku Ye Zen Master sighed deeply, "Yin and Yang, right and wrong, mistake and correctness, sorrow and joy, your destinies are bound to intertwine inseparably."
"Ha," Yi Lin shook his head, "I don't believe in fate."
But as soon as he spoke, Yi Lin felt somewhat ironic.
It was precisely because of fate that he arrived in this world.
Humans, in the eyes of the deities, are humble beings unable to autonomously control their own destiny.
Yi Lin had always believed that at the world's end, he could find something, so he worked hard for it.
