In a bleak little courtyard.

Chang Hao watched the girl take all the tonic and blood-replenishing substances in his storage bag, just like a parent watching his child take medicine.

After the girl swallowed the last bloodwort in a small mouth.

The atmosphere was somewhat silent for a moment.

a long time.

Chang Hao turned his back to the girl and spoke to break the silence.

His tone was a little low and he said: "Twenty years."

The girl was slightly startled and looked up in confusion.

Chang Hao said: "The old monster of the Huan Shen Sect will succeed in transforming into a god in twenty years at the latest. By then, the Huan Shen Sect will become the first gate in Lu. And with the Huan Shen Sect guarded by a transformed god, I'm afraid it will cost me a lot of money."

It will take a hundred years to avenge the master's family."

The girl seemed to understand what to write and remained silent.

Chang Hao turned his back to her and said silently: "I'm leaving. Seize these twenty years, seize the time when the old monster has not yet become a god, and step into the Nascent Soul realm as soon as possible. If you are lucky, you can

Taking advantage of that old monster's calamity..."

After saying this, he walked slowly towards the door.

The last words came through: "Just wait, after I slaughter the Huanshen Sect and avenge your family and my master, we may see each other again."

When the words "goodbye day" fell, his person had turned into a white rainbow and disappeared into the sky.

The girl chased him for a few steps in the courtyard, and finally stopped and stood there with a calm expression on her face, not knowing what she was thinking.

…

A few days passed.

Wang Lin returned to the wood carving shop.

These days, Yunquezi went to the Four Sects Alliance to understand the artistic conceptions of other god-transformation monks, which benefited him a lot.

And on the day he came back, he subconsciously swept out his spiritual consciousness to observe the fortune teller's divination stall.

Only seen.

The girl in red was standing in front of the hexagram stall, giving a salute, as if asking another hexagram.

Immediately, Wang Lin heard the girl ask the fortune teller a little tiredly.

"Sir, can you already..."

The fortune teller looked calm and said: "Everything is destined."

The girl frowned slightly, she couldn't understand this sentence.

But she didn't think much about it, just bowed again and left.

Looking at the back of the girl walking away.

Not long after, the fortune teller was replaced by another familiar figure.

It's Wang Lin.

Wang Lin had a beard and frosty white temples. He looked like a lonely middle-aged man. He stared at the fortune teller for a long time and asked, "I don't understand."

The fortune teller smiled to himself and said, "I don't understand everything either."

Wang Lin asked: "How to distinguish between dreams and reality, truth and fiction?"

The fortune teller's dream has deviated from reality.

The point of deviation is right here with the girl in red.

If reality is different from the fate in the dream, then what is the so-called fate?

The fortune teller shook his head, as if to say that Wang Lin was wrong. He took a deep look at the other person, and then drew a circle on the hexagram booth.

"This is fate."

Wang Lin looked at the circle, his body suddenly shook, and he seemed to realize something.

A circle.

"Whoever can break this circle can control his destiny."

The fortune teller said with a smile.

"Who are you?" Wang Lin took a deep breath and asked.

At this moment, he was finally absolutely sure that the person in front of him had mysterious origins, great cultivation, and was an extremely terrifying existence.

The fortune teller murmured: "As I said, I don't understand everything, but I have understood some truths through the fog over the years. After understanding these, I remembered some things, but not everything."

After that, he looked at Wang Lin and said calmly: "In the dream, I didn't know that I was a guest. When I knew it, I woke up from the dream, and everything was understood and achieved."

Wang Lin's eyes narrowed. Although he didn't understand everything behind what the fortune teller said, his inner instinct made him feel that this was a dream that related to the universe.

Dream.

His dream is not just the life of Chang Hao, a monk in the alchemy stage.

"I want to thank you." The fortune teller said to Wang Lin.

Wang Lin looked at the fortune teller and asked silently: "Why are you thanking me?"

The fortune teller smiled, pointed to the circle on the table, and said, "Because you told me about this circle."

"I?"

Wang Lin suddenly became even more confused, followed by confusion.

"I told you?"

The fortune teller shook his head and said, "It's not you now."

Wang Lin immediately thought of the answer, and then stared at the fortune teller: "Is it the future me?"

The fortune teller nodded and said, "Yes, but when will you be in the future?"

His tone was also a little confused, as if he couldn't remember, or maybe he didn't know clearly at all.

He only remembered that Wang Lin told him about this circle, but he didn't know when he got the inspiration from Wang Lin and realized that fate is a circle.

"Farewell."

Wang Lin took a deep breath, then turned and left.

At this time, he never wanted to have any contact with the fortune teller.

This vast ancient circle was like an abyss, capable of swallowing up everything. It was not something he, a monk who had just prepared to become a god, could test. All he could do was to stay away from it.

Watch Wang Lin leave.

The fortune teller stood on the bustling street.

People were walking around, but in the eyes of the fortune teller, there was nothing at all, as if he was the only one in the vast world.

He said to himself: "Destiny is a line, whether it is a dream or reality, it is just a line, and whoever can string the two lines together completely and turn them into a circle will have a complete destiny.

The man who creates all destiny."

"Destiny comes from the hand that strings this circle together."

"But, are they true or false? What is the difference between true and false?"

The fortune teller fell into confused self-questioning.

He didn't know he was a guest in the dream, he was only half awake, and all the answers would have to wait until he fully woke up.

And that time is not far away.

In another fifteen years, Chang Hao will be eighty years old, and this story will end.

Fifteen years.

For cultivators, in a blink of an eye, a retreat for an ordinary monk in the alchemy stage often takes tens to hundreds of years.

A day in the mountains means a hundred years in the world.

But for ordinary mortals.

Fifteen years really means too much.

If a mortal can live for seventy years, he has lived a long life.

Fifteen years is one-fifth of a mortal's life.

Especially for the elderly, the last fifteen years of life pass very quickly.

It’s another year of heavy snow.

On this day, Daniel's father, an old man in his sixties, could not escape the birth, old age, illness and death of mortals, so he left the blacksmith shop and finished his life.

Wang Lin stared blankly at the blacksmith shop opposite. He couldn't help but think of the cheerful man twenty years ago, the middle-aged man who brought him fruit wine from time to time.
To be continued...