The Helmsman of the Secret of the Body

Zhua Yun stood to one side, listening to his master's analysis, his face equally grave.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering as though he were making some sort of decision. At last, he carefully spoke up. "Master..."

"With the sect facing this predicament, its talents failing to keep up and powerful enemies surrounding us... perhaps we could... try that?"

Though he did not explicitly say what "that" was, the old man clearly understood what his disciple meant at once.

A sharp gleam suddenly flashed through his eyes, which had only just regained their clarity.

But it was immediately replaced by deeper exhaustion and an almost tragic rationality. He slowly shook his head.

"No." The old man's voice was resolute, carrying an unquestionable decisiveness.

"If this had been decades ago, when my blood still ran hot and I wanted only to prove myself with earth-shaking theories, then perhaps..."

"I would still have had the courage to throw everything into one gamble and attempt that path of immense risk, a path nearly defying heaven itself."

He raised his withered hand, covered in age spots and wrinkles.

Holding it before his eyes, he stared at the years that had slipped away and the sharp vigor that had long since vanished.

"Unfortunately, I am old now." His tone grew bleak. "Not merely old in body, but old in spirit as well."

"For an adventure that requires wagering everything, whose consequences may be impossible to predict and may even stir up monstrous waves, I no longer... have the strength of heart or the courage to bear it."

He lowered his hand and swept his gaze across the glass vessels around him, each containing soaked organs. His expression was complicated. "And besides, Zhua Yun, you must understand."

"Once I truly begin putting that theory into practice, whether I succeed or fail, there will be no concealing it from the world."

"The commotion it causes, its aura, the phenomena it may trigger... will inevitably alarm the entire sect. When that happens..."

He gave a bitter smile, one uglier than a cry. "They likely will not think I am seeking a way forward for the sect."

"They will only become more convinced that I am an incurable madman, obsessed with evil research."

"After all, in their eyes, the theories I have left behind were long ago swept into history's garbage heap as dregs and... heretical doctrines."

At the mention of this, intense indignation and resentment instantly surged onto Zhua Yun's face.

Unable to hold himself back, he raised his voice. "Master! This is far too unfair!!!"

"The Secret of the Body was clearly developed through your painstaking efforts alongside several senior members of the sect!"

"It was a treasure acknowledged by the entire sect! One of your greatest contributions to the sect!!"

"But now, those senior members have long since passed away, while only you remain..."

"Yet all those other, even deeper theories you proposed have been completely rejected simply because they exceeded ordinary people's understanding!"

"They have been treated as unorthodox dregs, cast aside like worn-out shoes, with no one paying them any heed!"

The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, his chest rising and falling faintly. "Do you know how much effort you poured into the rise of the Body Sect, how much criticism you endured!"

"If you had not defied all opposition back then and insisted on those foundational studies, how could the sect have later achieved breakthroughs in understanding the nature of Martial Souls and developing their potential?"

"If not for you, Master..."

"Enough! Zhua Yun, say no more!"

The old man suddenly interrupted him. His voice was not loud, yet it carried a rare severity and a trace of... barely concealed pain.

He closed his eyes, and his withered face twisted slightly, as if Zhua Yun's words had touched the deepest scar in his heart—the one he least wished to touch.

Those memories, where glory and humiliation coexisted, where contribution and misunderstanding intertwined, surged like a tide, trying to drown him once more.

He gasped heavily several times before barely calming himself.

When he opened his eyes again, only bottomless exhaustion and desolation remained within them.

"Let the past... pass completely." He waved his hand, his voice hoarse and weak.

"Now, these old bones of mine are already half-buried in the earth, with the sun setting over West Mountain. I stopped caring about personal glory, disgrace, gains, and losses long ago."

"It is only... only that I cannot accept it."

He lifted his head, his gaze distant. "I cannot accept that the theories into which I poured my life's work will be buried with me beneath the yellow earth, never to see daylight again."

"They may be shocking to the world, and the road may be fraught with danger, but the possibilities contained within them... if there were truly someone capable of successfully putting them into practice!"

"Even if only part of them were realized, perhaps... the Body Sect could truly be reborn and become stronger than ever before."

His voice was filled with endless yearning and even deeper regret. "What a pity..."

"What a pity that such talent is so hard to find. And even more regrettably, I... no longer have the time or the opportunity to wait or to nurture one."

Zhua Yun looked at his master's profile, which seemed to have aged several more years in an instant, and found the bitterness in his heart unbearable.

He suddenly stepped forward, dropped to one knee before the old man, and raised his head.

His face was filled with determination. "Master! If we cannot find a suitable candidate, then use me! Experiment on me!"

"Your disciple is young and strong, and I am your direct disciple. I understand your theories better than anyone!"

"As long as I succeed, I can still prove the correctness and greatness of your theories to the entire sect and to the whole world!"

The old man lowered his head and looked at his beloved disciple kneeling before him.

The corner of his eye twitched almost imperceptibly. A profound look of pity, mixed with emotion, reluctance, and even more complicated feelings, quietly flashed through his eyes.

He reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked Zhua Yun's head, his movement gentler than ever before.

"Silly child..." His voice was soft. "You are my only disciple in this world."

"You are the continuation of all my efforts and hopes, and perhaps the only person left who truly understands these mad theories of mine..."

"How could I bear to... let you take such a risk?"

His fingers brushed through Zhua Yun's hair with boundless fondness. "That is a truly perilous path, one with nine chances of death for every chance of life—perhaps even certain death."

"If anything were to happen to you..." His voice caught.

"Then this small inheritance of mine, all my obsessions and unfulfilled aspirations in this life, would truly... be cut off forever."

"Master!" Zhua Yun's eyes reddened, and he still wanted to argue.

But the old man had already withdrawn his hand and straightened his hunched back once more.

Though he remained frail, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength to uphold an authority that could not be questioned.

He turned around, leaving Zhua Yun with nothing but a lonely, aged back.

"Say no more." His voice returned to calmness, yet carried detachment and weariness. "Let me... have some quiet."

Zhua Yun remained kneeling where he was, staring at his master's back. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he could not say anything.

He knew that once his master made a decision, it would be difficult to change.

All he could do was silently rise to his feet, lower his head, and retreat to one side.

Guarding this heavy silence, guarding his master's loneliness that no one understood.

And that world-shaking ambition... which perhaps would never have the chance to be realized.