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Master’s Heavy Heart — Chapter 1. Part 1


By the time I had grown too weary to keep track of my own age, my youngest junior brother passed away, “riding a crane westward” (a poetic way to say someone has died). After attending his funeral, I turned around and saw nine thousand disciples kneeling on the steps before the mountain gate of the Kong Ling Sect. Among them, even my junior brother’s disciples had mostly passed away. Out of every ten people there, nine called me “Great Grandmaster.”

That day, I decided to take on a disciple to soothe the weariness of being called old.

And so, I accepted my first disciple.

At the time, the younger generation was bustling around, trying to help me choose the most talented candidate from among the thirty thousand disciples of the sect, someone with the best spiritual foundation, in hopes of grooming them into the next immortal, bringing glory to the Kong Ling Sect.

But no one—including myself—could have imagined that I would find my first disciple in a monster’s nest.

It happened that he had been captured by a giant bird demon and was about to be eaten. Meanwhile, I had gone to the nest because I was craving monster eggs. I didn’t find any eggs, but instead, I found a child’s leg. I pulled him out and immediately noticed his exceptional spiritual potential, far surpassing the thirty thousand disciples of the Kong Ling Sect.

Overjoyed, I smacked the chattering bird demon dead with a single blow, carried the child under a tree, and without even asking his name, blurted out: “Do you want to be my disciple?”

He, still shaken, glanced at the twitching corpse of the bird demon and then at me. “What’s a disciple?”

I had never taken on a disciple before and genuinely didn’t know what it entailed, but the most important thing at that moment was to convince the child. My mind turned quickly. “A disciple is someone I’ll feed, clothe, and cherish like a precious treasure.”

“Feed me?”

“Yes, with the finest delicacies.”

“Clothe me?”

“Yes, in silks and brocades.”

“A precious treasure…”

“Yes, a beloved treasure.” I reached out to wipe the dust and dirt off his face. His bright, obsidian-like eyes sparkled as he looked at me. I truly felt pity for him—this small, thin, dark-skinned child who had nearly been eaten in a monster’s nest, with no one to save him. Taking his small hand in mine, I squatted down to look at him and said, “If you become my disciple, I will never let anyone or any monster bully you. I will protect you for life.”

He looked at me and agreed.

I was ecstatic. I brought him back to the Kong Ling Sect, presented him with the celestial sword Hong Xiao at the peak of the sect, and gave him the disciple name Qian Gu (“Eternal”). I hoped that in the future, he would inherit my legacy, bring everlasting honor to the sect, and make his name immortal.

My first disciple indeed did not disappoint me. His name became known across the divine realm—but in the most infamous way, by committing heinous acts and falling into demonic ways.

Looking back now, I think Qian Gu was actually the most dependable of the three disciples I later took. He was calm, decisive, capable of extraordinary achievements, and well-versed in the art of strategy. But he had one fatal flaw…

He loved me.

That was a flaw so maddening it made me want to beat my chest and stab myself in apology to the world.

In hindsight, it’s my fault.

When I brought Qian Gu back, I was already 800 years old, while he was just eight. I had lived with the face of a twenty-year-old for centuries, leading a straightforward and untroubled life, but I hadn’t considered the complexities of Qian Gu’s growing mind.

Qian Gu’s talent was exceptional. By the age of twenty-five, he had achieved immortality and stopped aging. Later, he mastered the art of transformation but never once made himself look younger. Instead, he wandered around me every day with a face that seemed slightly older than mine. Wandering was fine—after all, he was still over 790 years younger than me.

I, being so straightforward, didn’t think much of it. Living atop Kong Ling Peak with no one to disturb me, I didn’t notice the problem. No one in the sect paid it much attention either. It wasn’t until the incident that I realized how deeply Qian Gu had concealed his thoughts.

If it weren’t for the day I drank too much wine, lay by the pool pretending to nap, and Qian Gu kissed me while whispering “Shifu” over and over in a tender, lingering voice, I might never have known his feelings.

I later discovered that on that day, Qian Gu had been drugged by a female disciple who had harbored feelings for him for a long time. In his haste to return and purify his mind of the poison, he saw me lying by the wine pool, my cheeks flushed. It was then that decades of suppressed emotions overcame him, and he couldn’t help but steal a kiss.

At the time, though I was feigning sleep in my drunken state, my spiritual awareness was still sharp, allowing me to perceive everything around me. That kiss sobered me completely. Fortunately, he didn’t go further than that. Out of consideration for our reputation as master and disciple, I didn’t confront him directly but continued to pretend to sleep.

Ultimately, Qian Gu relied on his famed self-control to suppress all his emotions and impulses. He stumbled away, and only then did I open my eyes. Gazing at the stars above the Kong Ling Sect, I began to reflect.

I am, at heart, a very traditional master. I am far from open-minded enough to accept such feelings.

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