"Ah, Master Wu, that's how things stand. Xun rarely comes home, and this time he came asking for help himself. I could only swallow my pride."
In the Martial Arts Hall, Zhang Zhi sat in a guest seat, cupping his hands with a sigh.
Wu Deshui, seated at the head, sipped his tea and paused before speaking. "Master Zhang, we've known each other for so many years. I know some things aren't really my place to say, but I think you understand as well: Liu Xun doesn't have much respect for you as the master who taught him. Even if you help him like this, I'm afraid he won't appreciate it.
"He might not even care what you've sacrificed or what happens to you. All he cares about is his own future and his own assignment-"
Wu Deshui spoke as though offering advice.
Ordinarily, an outsider should not come between those with close ties. It was hardly appropriate for him to spell these things out when they were master and disciple.
But Wu Deshui was a retired soldier himself and couldn't stand seeing such things. His standing was also higher than Zhang Zhi's, so he simply said it outright.
"Ah, I know, really. But Xun is in the Embroidered Uniform Guard, after all. There are many things where he needs to avoid any appearance of impropriety. Perhaps he has no choice."
Zhang Zhi probably didn't quite believe his own words, but he had still forced himself to come.
Wu Deshui set down his teacup. "I'm not doing anything anyway. These old bones of mine don't mind going out for some exercise. But the youngsters have already passed the Martial Examination themselves. I won't make decisions for them."
Liu Tong, who had been standing nearby all along, hurriedly spoke up. "Master,