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 cautiously spoke. "Master..."
"With the sect in such a predicament, its talent pool dwindling and powerful enemies surrounding us... perhaps we could... try that?"
Though he did not explicitly say what "that" was, the old man clearly understood his disciple's meaning at once.
A sharp glint suddenly flashed through his eyes, which had only just regained their clarity.
But it was swiftly replaced by deeper exhaustion and an almost mournful rationality. He slowly shook his head.
"No." The old man's voice was decisive, leaving no room for doubt.
"If this had been several decades ago, when I was full of vigor and determined to prove myself with earth-shattering theories, perhaps..."
"I would still have had the courage to take that gamble and attempt that immensely dangerous path, one that practically defied heaven itself."
He raised his withered hand, covered in age spots and wrinkles.
He held it before his eyes and looked at it, gazing at the passing years and the sharpness that had long since faded away.
"Unfortunately, I am old now." His tone grew desolate. "Not merely old in body, but old in spirit as well."
"I no longer have the strength or courage to bear the burden of an adventure that requires staking everything, whose consequences may be impossible to predict and may even stir up monstrous waves."
He lowered his hand, his gaze sweeping across the glass containers holding submerged organs. His expression was complicated. "And besides, Zhua Yun, you must understand."
"Once I truly begin putting that theory into practice, regardless of success or failure, there will be no concealing it."
"The commotion, its aura, the phenomena it may trigger... will inevitably alarm the entire sect. When that happens..."
He gave a bitter smile, uglier than weeping. "They likely will not believe I am seeking a way out for the sect."
"They will only become even more convinced that I am an incurable madman, obsessed with wicked research."
"After all, in their eyes, my remaining theories were long ago discarded 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.
He could not help raising 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 those other, even deeper theories you proposed have been wholly rejected merely because they exceeded ordinary understanding!"
"They are treated as deviant dregs, cast aside like worn-out shoes, with no one willing to care about them!"
The more he spoke, the more agitated he became, his chest rising and falling slightly. "Do you know how much effort you gave for the rise of the Body Sect, how much criticism you endured!"
"If you had not stood against all opposition and insisted on those foundational studies back then, how could the sect have later achieved such breakthroughs in understanding the essence 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 rare severity and a trace of... barely concealed pain.
He closed his eyes, his withered face twisting slightly, as though Zhua Yun's words had touched the deepest scar in his heart—the one he least wished to revisit.
Those past events, where glory and humiliation coexisted, where contribution and misunderstanding intertwined, surged toward him like a tide, threatening to drown him once more.
He panted heavily several times before barely managing to calm himself.
When he opened his eyes again, only bottomless exhaustion and desolation remained within them.
"Let the past... pass completely." He waved a hand, his voice hoarse and powerless.
"Now, these old bones of mine are already half-buried in the earth. My days are drawing to a close. I stopped caring about personal glory, disgrace, gain, or loss long ago."
"It is only... only that I cannot accept it."
He raised his head, his gaze distant. "I cannot accept that the theories into which I poured my life's work will be buried with me in the yellow earth, never to see the light of day."
"They may be shocking to the world, and their paths may be perilous, but the possibilities they contain... if there were truly someone who could successfully put them into practice!"
"Even if it were only part of them, perhaps... the Body Sect could truly be reborn and become more powerful 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 difficult to find. More than that, what a pity that I... no longer have the time or opportunity to wait or nurture someone."
Zhua Yun looked at his master's profile, which seemed to have aged several more years in an instant, and felt unbearable sorrow in his heart.
He suddenly stepped forward, dropped to one knee before the old man, and raised his head.
His face was full of resolve. "Master! Since we cannot find a suitable candidate, use me! Experiment on me!"
"Your disciple is young and healthy, and I am your direct disciple. I understand your theories better than anyone!"
"As long as I succeed, I can likewise prove the correctness and greatness of your theories to the entire sect and 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 deeply complicated look of pity, mixed with gratitude, reluctance, and countless other emotions, quietly flashed through his eyes.
He stretched 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 painstaking efforts and hopes, and perhaps the only person left who truly understands these mad theories of mine..."
"How could I bear to... make you take such a risk?"
His fingers brushed through Zhua Yun's hair, filled with boundless cherishment. "That is a truly perilous path, where nine deaths await in ten steps—or perhaps ten deaths with no chance of survival at all."
"If anything were to happen to you..." His voice caught.
"Then this small inheritance of mine, all my obsessions and unfulfilled dreams throughout this life, would truly... be completely cut off."
"Master!" Zhua Yun's eyes reddened as he tried to argue further.
But the old man had already withdrawn his hand and straightened his hunched back once more.
Though he remained frail, it was as though he had gathered all the strength in his body to uphold an unquestionable authority.
He turned around, leaving only a lonely, aged back to Zhua Yun.
"Say no more." His voice returned to calmness, yet carried a hint of indifference and weariness. "Let me... be alone for a while."
Zhua Yun remained kneeling where he was, looking at his master's back. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he could not say anything.
He knew that once his master had made a decision, it would be difficult to change.
He could only 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 earth-shattering ambition that might never have the chance to be realized...
Before you continue