"It's still there, just invisible to your eyes."
Zhou Ping'an burned a hundred strands of Wish Silk Thread, his spirit soaring to an unparalleled height, his eyes turning a pale golden hue as he gazed into the city from afar.
He saw that in the midst of the city, within the void, there was a subtle distortion in the air, like the wavy patterns of heat rising from the scorching ground on a hot summer day.
"All forms are illusions. To see that all forms are not forms is to see the Tathagata"
A verse once widely circulated in modern society flitted through Zhou Ping'an's mind.
He roughly guessed what was going on.
This world, despite its different myths and legends, essentially couldn't escape its deep ties with the Three Religions.
As the saying goes, Buddhas and Bodhisattvas can manifest in thousands of forms, infinite incarnations, pervading three thousand worlds in a single thought, omnipresent.
Their Taoist doctrines have been passed down here, which is only natural.
