"Where do you think this is?"

Shencezi's eyes rolled, each carrying a hint of inquiry.

"Illusion."

Yes, I've been telling myself that for years.

This is an illusion, a delusion of mine.

"What is illusion? What is reality?"

Shencezi asked again, with a touch of coldness.

I shook my head, unable to answer.

What is illusion? What is reality?

I used to think that this crazy and terrifying world is the illusion!

But the stick that falls on the body is real, the hot soup sent by mother is real.

Pain is real, warmth is also real.

Perhaps there are also rules for the operation of illusion, or perhaps these rules are inherently illusory.

I have a splitting headache.

Shencezi's appearance keeps changing in my eyes.

Dividing, distorting...

"Never mind, it's not the right time after all."

As Shencezi's words fell, my brain finally regained clarity.

"Did you hear what I said to that figure earlier?"

"Regardless of your talent or aptitude, you are a top-notch individual."

"You are both excellent and sacrificial."

"Sacrificial offering for sacrifice."

Hearing this, I was suddenly startled.

"Can that old Taoist really become immortal?"

How absurd!

That kind of cunning and sinister scoundrel should be sent to the 18th level of hell!

Seeing my infuriated expression, Shencezi asked in response:

"Why can't he become immortal?"

I opened my mouth, with a thousand reasons in my heart, but when it came to speaking, I couldn't say it.

What am I supposed to do?

Talk about good and evil in this crazy place?

Talk about right and wrong in this void?

Shencezi didn't push me, just left a faint sentence:

"You are his opportunity, and he is also your opportunity."

"He can treat you as a sacrificial offering, why can't you treat him as a sacrificial offering?"