Chapter 8 – The Master's Truth
The evening air was crisp as the two figures walked side by side along the quiet road that led away from the Zhoa estate. The master's tailored black suit gave him the appearance of a dignified businessman, yet the faint pressure that clung to his presence told a very different story—an aura of authority that no modern man could replicate.
The young disciple walked slightly behind, his steps hesitant, his head lowered in both reverence and nervousness. He could not quiet the storm in his chest, and every glance at his master's calm silhouette only deepened his awe.
Finally, the disciple spoke, his voice cautious, like one afraid to break the silence of a sacred temple.
"Master… may I ask… was what you told me truly real? That you… you were once an Emperor of an ancient dynasty?"
The man did not stop walking, but a faint smile touched his lips. His eyes, dark and fathomless, gazed into the distance as if seeing both past and future layered upon the present.
"I was not merely an Emperor," he said quietly, his tone carrying weight that made the disciple's heart tremble. "I ruled a dynasty whose strength could shake the heavens. My clan walked the path of cultivation when the world was still brimming with spiritual energy. Kingdoms and sects bowed before our banners, and even the stars seemed to recognize our sovereignty."
The disciple felt his breath hitch. His knees almost buckled, but he steadied himself.
"To think… that such a being… is now my Master." His eyes shone with disbelief and reverence. "I am unworthy."
The man stopped then, turning to face him. His gaze was stern, yet not unkind.
"You are unworthy—yet. That is precisely why I accepted you. Potential lies not in what you are now, but in what you may become under guidance. Tell me, child—when you stood before me, what did you feel?"
The disciple's mind flashed back to that moment, and words spilled from him in a rush.
"I felt as though a mountain pressed upon me, but at the same time… I felt safe, like no harm could reach me as long as I stood within your shadow. My body trembled, yet my heart longed to draw closer. I was afraid of you, yet even more afraid to lose the chance to follow you."
The master's expression softened. He reached out and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, his grip firm yet reassuring.
"Then you understand. Fear is natural. Respect is proper. Admiration is earned. But what binds us together… is choice. You chose to bow, and I chose to accept. From this moment forward, you are my disciple—not merely to learn techniques, but to inherit a legacy that was thought lost to time."
The disciple's throat tightened. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, though he fought to keep his composure. He knelt abruptly on the pavement, pressing his forehead to the ground.
"Disciple greets Master once more! I swear, by my life, that I will not shame your name!"
The suited Emperor looked down at him, his expression unreadable. At last, he nodded.
"Rise. You will have many chances to prove those words. For now, remember: respect is the seed, but loyalty is the root. Without roots, no tree can stand, no matter how glorious its leaves."
The disciple rose, wiping at his eyes, and managed a shaky smile.
"Master… if you truly are an Emperor from the past, then… why are you here, in this modern world? Why not reveal yourself to all, reclaim what is yours?"
The Emperor's eyes grew distant, and a shadow of sorrow flickered across his face.
"Because the world has changed. The spiritual energy that once nourished cultivators has thinned to a mere whisper. My clan slumbers still, hidden in a formation that shields them from time. I awoke by chance… perhaps by fate. To reveal myself now would invite only chaos. The Tang Clan must rise again in silence, away from prying eyes, until the time is right."
The disciple listened, his heart aching at the weight of such words. He clenched his fists, his young face hardening with newfound determination.
"Then I… I will help you, Master! Even if I am weak now, even if I know nothing of cultivation, I will follow you. I will learn, endure, and fight if I must!"
The Emperor turned his gaze back upon him, and for the first time, genuine approval glimmered in his eyes.
"Good. A disciple who dares to shoulder his master's burden is a disciple worth teaching."
They resumed walking. For a long while, silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of their footsteps. Finally, the disciple spoke again, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Master… when Patriarch Zhoa offered you rewards, you refused them all. You only accepted me as your reward. Does that mean… I am truly more valuable than wealth?"
The Emperor chuckled softly, the sound both regal and strangely human.
"Wealth fades. Power crumbles. Even dynasties fall. But a single worthy disciple… can carry a legacy beyond death. Remember this well, child: you are worth more to me than any treasure. Do not forget it."
The disciple's chest swelled with pride. His fears eased, replaced by a fierce joy that made him straighten his back and walk taller beside his master.
Under the night sky, the figure in the suit strode forward like an Emperor unbowed by time, while behind him walked a boy whose heart now burned with the fire of loyalty. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—teacher and student had taken their first step together into destiny.