Xiao Yi Han fell silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. When he finished laughing, he set down his wine cup and nodded. “You’re right to hate me. However…” His voice paused briefly as he looked up at me, his gaze piercing. “What shall we do? Your master still has important matters to attend to and cannot afford to give up his life just yet to satisfy your grudge.”
I raised my sword, pointing it once more at his throat. “No need for Master to trouble himself. I’ll handle it personally.”
Xiao Yi Han remained seated, his eyes gazing up at me with a sharpness that felt like a thousand blades unsheathing.
Did he think I would be afraid? I was no longer the timid child who panicked at the slightest furrow of his brow. My spiritual energy surged, pushing back against the oppressive aura he emitted, and our forces clashed violently within the tavern.
Plates shattered, tables collapsed, and even the ground began to crack. The beams above groaned ominously, threatening to cave in at any moment.
“My little disciple,” Xiao Yi Han said, smiling even as the conflict raged around us. “You’ve improved quite a bit. I always knew you had talent for cultivation, and it seems you haven’t slacked off in my absence. Very good, very good.”
I responded with a cold smile. “All thanks to you.”
Eighty years ago, back when Xiao Yi Han was still in the sect, I had worked tirelessly on my cultivation. So much so that even he occasionally marveled at my effort. He believed it was because I loved cultivation. But the truth was, I didn’t love it at all.
At the time, I simply relied too much on him. How else could I remain by the side of an immortal whose years left no trace upon him? He refused to teach me, but I wanted to be his disciple. So, I had no choice but to make myself worthy of standing beside him.
To his eyes, that determination looked like “a love for cultivation.”
Later, after Xiao Yi Han left, I dedicated myself even more fiercely to cultivation—not out of love, but for the day I could take my revenge.
“Unfortunately,” Xiao Yi Han said abruptly, his tone shifting, “this is where it ends for today.”
With those words, his aura surged dramatically.
Sensing danger, I withdrew my sword and held it defensively. A moment later, the beams above us gave way with a deafening crash. The entire tavern collapsed around me. Thanks to the protective energy of my cultivation, I remained unscathed.
But as the dust settled, Xiao Yi Han was nowhere to be found.
All that remained were startled passersby gawking at the scene, the trembling tavern keeper cowering under an intact section of the counter, and Xiao Yi Han’s parting words, left lingering in the air:
“Your master still has unfinished business. Don’t follow me, little disciple. Don’t dwell on it.”
Who cares about you and your unfinished business?
I clenched my teeth in fury. Dwell on it? The only thing I’ll dwell on is your death!
I sheathed my sword, its blade still stained with the blood I had drawn from Xiao Yi Han’s neck. Pressing two fingers against the blade, I wiped the blood clean and began a tracking spell. As I closed my eyes, a faint blue glow appeared in the darkness, leading off into the distant sky. That was Xiao Yi Han’s trail.
Riding my sword, I took to the air, quietly pursuing the trace he had left behind.
Escape me now? It won’t be so easy.
Xiao Yi Han moved quickly, but I kept up. The chase brought back memories of long ago, when Xiao Yi Han had once taken me beyond the sect for “training.” It was perhaps the only time he ever attempted to teach me anything, though even that was poorly done.
At the time, I was still attending the academy. While other masters took their disciples on months-long training expeditions, I had to stay behind, stuck in the courtyard reading the cultivation books Xiao Yi Han had discarded.
Bored out of my mind, I spent my days staring at the sky, envious of my peers’ adventures. My spirit was utterly deflated.
Then, one morning—perhaps some nerve of his had been struck—Xiao Yi Han actually told me to get up, saying he would take me out for training.
I was overjoyed, following him on my sword as he flew ahead. And then…
And then we just flew in a big circle.
When I finally caught up to him, he yawned and declared he was tired. He decided to rest on the spot and then announced we were heading back to the sect.
The fact that I didn’t kill him on the spot speaks volumes about my patience back then.
We landed, but as fate would have it, we had stumbled into a massive maze array.
Xiao Yi Han, finding the situation troublesome, decided he might as well settle down and live there.
Unacceptable! Unlike him, I hadn’t yet cultivated an immortal body. Without food, I’d starve in those woods. So, I took it upon myself to scout paths, find the array’s core, and devise a way to break it—while also catering to Xiao Yi Han’s whims.
One day he wanted to bathe after sweating, so I had to heat water. The next day his feet were tired, so I made a wooden board to drag him along.
Perhaps it was during that time, as I toiled in that absurd maze, that the first seed of a desire to kill Xiao Yi Han was planted in my heart.
And yet, I must admit that those bizarre days of “training” did inadvertently improve my cultivation. Sometimes, Xiao Yi Han’s whims even led us to clues about breaking the array.
On the final day, I located the array’s core, and we escaped.
But it was also on that day that we encountered the person—or rather, the demon—that would ultimately shatter the bond between master and disciple.
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