That year, the Daoist was fifty-five years old, a celestial being with profound understanding of the Dao.
The jujube tree was heavily laden with fruit as the Daoist inscribed the character for Buddha, causing the earth to erupt with golden lotuses.
"The Buddhist scriptures state that one who can make the earth gush forth with golden lotuses can be called a Buddha."
A female disciple leaned down, touched a bit of the golden light with her fingertip, and it immediately turned into soil.
"But you are just a Daoist, what do you know of the Buddhist teachings?"
"The Buddha is originally from the Dao, and the Dao is also the Buddha. Demons too can be part of the Buddhist path. The three—Buddha, Dao, and Demon—are fundamentally one, just as heaven and earth, yin and yang, and all living things lead to the same end."
The Daoist replied with a blank expression, each word resonating with profound truths.
"I entered the Dao first, then the Buddha's sword, and finally the demon's sword. But the Buddha's sword is the most intuitive, and my understanding is the deepest, surpassing that of all predecessors."
"Surpassing all predecessors?" The female disciple looked astonished.