He Dao had been driven off.
Yu Zhenren had never seen a daoshi who was so bad at speaking—yet who still had the nerve to call himself a paragon of the orthodox path, all ethereal bearing and Daoist bones.
Bah! And he was an expert at putting on green hats—how many had he worn to be this practiced?
Had the whole Tianshu Divine Palace been stolen from under him, giving him this green enlightenment?
What infuriated him most was that it all sounded so reasonable!
Take the her from the past, put her there on that bed—does she look green then?
Is the past version of myself green?
And in other people's minds, who knows by whom I was cuckolded! Thinking of the looks in other people's eyes, of that line of fate where Yu Zhenren’s Luo Yin might as well slit his throat.
And besides, would the past her really accept the future version of herself? The woman in her eyes is already not that person anymore, maybe she’d be wringing her hands to go back and nurse the green-hatted Yu Zhenren!
No. I, Yu Zhenren, was not cuckolded!
The more Yu Zhenren thought about it, the more he wanted to curse, even feeling that the Outsider’s proposal was a total con—ridiculous!
Not the same person means not the same person.
No matter how you force the comparison, it isn’t the same.