7. Shizun Knows My Wrongs

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Since Mo Yixuan was standing over Nan Wuyue, all he could see was his master glowering down at him. Although it was half-hidden by long strands of black hair, the expression he saw...

...was filled with anger mixed with hatred!

Very good, Mo Yixuan. Even when showing your true colors to me, you still try to hide it from the rest of the world!

Hypocrite!

"S-shizun, I—"

"Quiet." Mo Yixuan silenced him, eyes still fixated on the pale white band around his index finger. What kind of spellcraft was this? He was certain he had tossed the thing outside as soon as he woke up. That aside, had Qing'er really said six days?

If Nan Wuyue really had waited that long, then it meant that Mo Yixuan had slept for at least six days himself!

But right now, that was the least of his concerns. Once again, he slipped off the ring. Having no pockets to put it in and not used to sticking things in his sleeves, Mo Yixuan ended up cradling the object in his palm while he studied his disciple. At the age of seven, Nan Wuyue had been picked up by the sect, then selected formally by Mo Yixuan two years later to be his core disciple. Back then, no one had been surprised: the boy had been measured to have immense potential for cultivation. And yet everything went downhill from here.

Mo Yixuan had personally taught Nan Wuyue all he knew, but none of his techniques or skills stuck. Even the basics learned by all Mt. Jingting disciples were hopeless on the body of the boy. For years, he struggled to make progress while embarrassing his master and his fellow disciples at the same time. Nan Wuyue had always been an obedient, quiet boy, so the constant failures only turned him more uncertain and insecure. He would have withdrawn into himself entirely if not for the consistent, patient guidance of his master, who persisted in defending, teaching, and supporting him. Because of this, no one dared to disparage Nan Wuyue out loud, but plenty talked about him behind his back.

More telling than that, Ouyang Che had noted, was the fact that Mo Yixuan never bothered to stop them—and the insinuation that the man was quite different from how he appeared on the surface.

Then three months ago, things had shifted again. Nan Wuyue suddenly started making progress in his cultivation, while Mo Yixuan grew stricter and more prone to voicing his displeasure. Outwardly, they were still the meek disciple and his serious master, but the dynamics had shifted: it felt like Nan Wuyue had somehow gotten the upper hand by taking control of his own improvement. Add that to the mysterious "injuries" Mo Yixuan kept suffering, and he could guess that waters were stormy between the two.

He took a deep breath.

"You—" Mo Yixuan began.

"Shizun knows my wrongs!" Nan Wuyue said immediately as he kowtowed towards the ground. "May shizun mete punishment!"

Qing'er shook her head furiously. "Peak Lord Mo, please show clemency! Senior Brother Nan didn't eat or drink anything for a week. He hasn't cultivated to a point where his body can take such abuse!" Now that she had time to calm down, she'd fallen back to referring to Nan Wuyue by his title.

"I thought I told you to stay at Mt. Luojia," Mo Yixuan frowned at his disciple.

Nan Wuyue visibly wavered, but boldly forged on. "I couldn't rest easy knowing that I still deserved to be punished."

"...why do you insist on making things harder for yourself?" Mo Yixuan asked after a pause.

"Shizun once said that there was no progress without pain. For this disciple to suffer is only natural."

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