Chapter 2

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"Since we already are at this point. May I make an offer to you dear? What about you become my apprentice and learn and master cultivation under my lead?", he suggested. He continued on, "I didn't have any for years and as you wish to learn everything about cultivation I shall teach you and help you learn grasping everything important, dear Mei Zhirou."

I was flabbergasted and could simply nod obediently. "Elder, y-you want to be my mentor and teach me cultivation? I I don't know what to say.", I was overjoyed and shy.

"You don't need to do much to form a  contract. Just use the ring and the ink to put the pattern on the scroll and the Dark Souls Sect will not be extinct in the future thanks to your small sacrifices and effort.", he handed me the scroll and the ring after pressing it into the ink softly. I took it with shaky hands, adding the pattern on the bottom of the scroll - officially sealing the deal.

I was smiling from ear to ear, happy to finally belong somewhere, to have a great teacher who would watch over me and help me progress in cultivation. Moreover I could help rebuild a sect which had been brought to its' knees on baseless accusations. I was trembling from excitement, my heart racing. I felt ambitious like I had never been knowing I had a huge responsibility to fulfill.

After I did, the elderly man started to laugh wholeheartedly and hugged me after putting the scroll in his clothing. Out of surprise and shock over such sudden gesture I was shy at first, blushing. Out of friendliness and genuine respect I still hugged back  lightly which made him smile brightly. He seemed to want to complete with the dazzling sun on the water, with the reflection in the windows. He was  like a diamond glowing in a dark room with absolute darkness shining out of it not minding the dark, some kind of coexistence with strong will and a fascinating aura that simply attracted people.

I knew going for a hidden sect meant they had to be labeled as evil probably pulling me into a difficult game. In a world where bad and good were circling around one other like wolfs preparing to attack ones wit needed to be splendid. To survive you didn't only need to be strongest but also the most clever and intelligent, knowing when to retaliate or fight forth.

But regarding the care I experienced under this man I knew that my life it would turn into a good one. My father whom I never saw him as a father figure but as an authorized person to scold and hurt me made me develop disgust and hate early in life. His own actions made him foul and an already damned person in my eyes. His sins were too many to believe in his words. He broke his promises so often that I forgot when he was honest with me at just 6 years. Friendly words were followed by a slap, a lecture followed by a beating. The end of the day, the dawn, for me it was not the end of the day it was the beginning. 

A poem that comes to my mind is rethinking about it all is:
The moon rounds the red mansion
Stoops to silk-pad doors
Shines upon the sleepless
Bearing no grudge
Why does the moon tend to be full when people are apart? 

The moon, according to the poem is a trustable object. Humans however are made to be apart, to fall apart. The sad essence in the poem - the parting and leaving which seemed to be presented as normal and painful for the other caring and gentle party. 

My sister came to my mind and I felt tears filling my eyes once again. I simply hoped she would do fine and get treated better. Not having endless nights and whimpering from fresh bruises and the emotional pain.  Her cultivation ability was as low as mine, still her ambition to continue our silk shop, it made her to the perfect daughter for my father. I as the one who only wanted to live for travelling and adventures was hated. Naturally, they made so many losses for raising me, but the win wasn't looked at. The money they could make out of it and all the help I provided was  disregarded to keep up the bad image of mine. No matter how much I tried to win their approval, I never got it or even remotely any praise or glare. I was living in the shadows, not being mentioned to customers, friends, relatives. The list went even further but I kept pushing the bad memory aside. My family had taken away a long time of my life.



A little new information on the side from the author:

I started rewriting it based on my writing style development over the years and would lobe to get feedback if you want to leave a little comment. Suggestions are naturally also welcome.

 For people interested in the poem an additional piece of information. The poem you can see in the text is from Si Tupong. He was a great and inspirational poet from the Northern Song era. So if you like you can gladly look him up. ;)

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