Some time ago, Lin Huang had asked him for guidance.
But what guidance could he give?
Wang Chen had never walked a "proper" path. His strength was stitched together from stolen experiences, borrowed avatars, and decades spent grinding inside frozen worlds where time meant nothing. His Dao was crooked, patched, and fundamentally unsuitable for imitation.
In the end, he had chosen the only method he truly trusted.
The Dao of Bullshit.
His own words echoed clearly in his mind.
"Lin Huang, my disciple, I have high expectations for you."
Back then, a trace of weariness had surfaced in his eyes—so faint that even Lin Huang hadn't noticed it.
"I don't want you to follow the same path as me. I want you to walk your own path to greatness. A teacher can only point the direction. How far a disciple goes… that depends on themselves. Do you understand, little disciple?"
Wang Chen still remembered that moment vividly.
