Looking back, it was all like a fairyland.

Cao Chen was taken aback by Su Mu's tone, and after a few seconds of stunned silence, he understood. Don't be fooled by Su Mu's seemingly mild-mannered demeanor as he drinks and eats; he is an enlightened being, one capable of crushing innate deities with his bare hands, so his confidence is not surprising.

"Then... the only possibility is that you're special," the Mirage Dragon said with a smile.

"I'm special?" Cao Chen was incredulous. How could he not know he was special? If we're talking about ordinary geniuses, Cao Chen believed himself to be one. He wasn't self-deprecating nor blindly arrogant; as someone who had entered the Dao, he had a clear understanding of himself. There was no possibility that he possessed special talents but was unaware of them; otherwise, he wouldn't have entered the Dao. If he didn't even understand his own situation, what Dao was he exploring?

So after hearing what Shenlong said, Cao Chen didn't think he was special. He was just an ordinary genius.

"Don't rush to deny it. The 'special' I'm referring to isn't necessarily about exceptional strength or talent. Unless you reach Su Mu's level, it's far from being considered special. This 'special' could very well be a point in the future where you do something that changes the world. Perhaps that one thing is just a small choice, but that small choice triggers a small chain reaction, creating a different world."

"As for the result, you may not feel it yourself, but you are the cause, and you are just as important as the result," the mirage dragon explained.

Cao Chen took a few breaths to digest this explanation.

"Furthermore, you might be favored by fate itself, that is, the God of Destiny. After all, you come from the Heavenly Evolution Sect, and the Heavenly Evolution Sect itself says that it has countless connections with this deity who controls fate. It's even possible that the combination of these two factors has led to your special status." The Mirage Dragon gave many examples.

What he said made a lot of sense, and Cao Chen was undeniably convinced.

"Of course, another possibility is that Si Ming made a mistake."

"This..." Cao Chen really wanted to refute and complain.

But Su Mu said, "That's also possible. Fate is not immutable, because no one can truly control its course. The existence of uncertainty is both a limitation and a constraint on fate. Besides, everyone makes mistakes; are innate gods perfect?"

Very good. What Su Mu and Shen Long said successfully dispelled Cao Chen's concerns. He actually didn't care that much, it was just a nagging discomfort in his heart.

"Actually, you don't need to care about fate; it's relative. The more you care about fate, the closer you get to it. It's just a kind of prediction of what's to come."

Cao Chen nodded.

"By the way, besides that one you met when you entered the Dao, have you met him anywhere else?" Shenlong asked curiously. Very few people have seen Si Ming, even in his own time, Si Ming rarely appeared in front of others.

When the world cuts itself in half, the one who has the greatest impact is none other than Sima Ming.

In fact, it was just a casual question, but Cao Chen thought about it for two seconds and nodded in agreement.

I've seen it; it was in a country I once traveled to.

Golden threads and osmanthus trees are the two main characteristics of Siming. In the country Cao Chen traveled through, he encountered a huge mural carved on a cliff. It depicted a story, or perhaps a prophecy.

Cao Chen outlined the story. It's a cliché, a love story laced with a touch of patriotism. But what really caught Cao Chen's attention was the setting. It could be said that within the context of a grand narrative, he created a story interwoven with patriotism and the deepest love between a man and his wife. The mural was unfinished, and its ending is unknown.

But in the background, the figure of Sima Ming appears, a goddess seated atop a laurel tree. This isn't the key point; the key is that this story begins with a war between nations, a mere fragment of a much larger conflict. While the mural features a small number of characters, most of them center around a young general and a woman. Even without any written description, one can sense the tragic and heroic spirit of the young man rushing to the battlefield.

Even more tragic is that this is just a small part of a vast war. Just a small part, and such separations are happening all the time. And in the background, there are scenes of sacrifices, believers praying to gods, even vague gods.

The separation and death of gods and gods, believers and country, and lovers together weave together to create a tragic epic.

But the mural didn't end; the thread of Sima Ming continued to entangle itself in every corner. In each mural, an arm tugged at the thread, each one a different one. The source, gathered into a tangled ball in the goddess's hand. Her brow drooped in a look of pity, of sorrow. Her other hand kept trying to untangle the thread, but it was tangled.

One can imagine Cao Chen's expression at the time; it was absolutely breathtaking. Thinking about it now, I still feel the same way. His description might not have been as shocking as what he saw with his own eyes.

He looked at the three of them. Their expressions varied. The old goat remained uninvolved, seemingly oblivious; the mirage dragon appeared lost in thought; Su Mu listened attentively, and seeing Cao Chen's expression, chuckled and said, "It seems Siming has been trying to stop this war all along. I didn't expect that."

"She..." The mirage dragon seemed to want to say something, but ultimately remained silent. A moment of silence fell over the dining table.

This topic didn't last long. Even though knowing Sima Ming was striving for something nearly impossible made things feel better, there was nothing they could do. Everyone felt this war was inevitable and unstoppable. It was unclear what Sima Ming was thinking, why he was doing this.

Everyone dropped the topic when they couldn't come up with a solution. The meal was coming to an end. Quite a bit of information had been revealed during this meal, and everyone must have gained something.

The sky gradually darkened, and the afterglow of the sun shone on the streets, giving them a warm glow. The number of people on the streets had gradually decreased, and there were only the sounds of hawkers.

"Candied hawthorn berries! Candied hawthorn berries!" The vendor's cry was loud and clear, even drowning out all the sounds from the surrounding shops. The four of them noticed this unusual noise and looked over.

The man selling candied haws was just an old man. His face was weathered, his dark skin wrinkled, yet his smile was kind. There was nothing unusual about him. He reached out, plucked a candied haws, and handed it to a girl. It seemed like a normal transaction, nothing unusual.