"Hey! Tian Sangyu! Tian Sangyu!"
These were the last words Confucius said before his death. The seventy-three-year-old sage was lying on the bed, looking at the disciples kneeling in the room, with the flickering candlelight reflected in his cloudy eyes. Zigong was crying, Yan Hui was crying, and even Zilu, who had always been strong, was secretly wiping away his tears.
"Don't cry..." Confucius wanted to raise his hand, but found that he didn't even have the strength, "My way... Has been taught..."
Before he finished speaking, an unprecedented sense of relief swept through his body. He felt himself floating up, looking at the old body below and watching the disciples rushing towards him to cry. The strange thing is that he is not sad, but feels relieved.
Then darkness fell.
"Hey hey hey! Wake up! Stop pretending to be dead!"
A harsh voice pulled Confucius out of nothingness. He opened his eyes suddenly and found that he was floating in the starry sky, with an... Indescribable existence suspended in front of him. It is like a twisted mass of light and shadow, sometimes taking on a human shape, and sometimes turning into some kind of indescribable geometric body. The weirdest thing is that there is a line of luminous text floating above its head: [Mr. Universe VIP.12].
"Who are you?" Confucius subconsciously covered his face with his sleeves - this was the etiquette in Zhou rites when facing unknown beings.
"Hahahaha!" The group of lights and shadows rolled with laughter, "Who are you? Kong Laoer, you are now my 'new player'!"
