"Hiss…"
Outside the crowded grove of Lanba Academy, Subei exhaled sharply and tugged Tang San gently by the arm. Too many eyes followed them, too many whispers fluttered around every move he made. The chaos of girls swooning, painters fainting, and spectators gossiping was not the place for this discussion.
Better to speak in private.
So he led Tang San through the forest path, sunlight patterning across the leaves, until they arrived at the quiet island on the lake.
As they walked, Subei kept stealing glances at the figure beside him. A "girl" with stiff posture, a skirt worn awkwardly, a ribbon barely tied into hair that had never been cut for such things. His peach-blossom eyes twitched.
Tang San… never thought you'd go this far. Dressing like this just to meet me?
Out loud, he couldn't resist. "Tang San, what on earth are you wearing? Do you realize how ridiculous this is?"
Yet even as he laughed, Subei's admiration tickled at him. The courage to ignore ridicule, to step through the world in borrowed clothes just for loyalty—it was absurd, but also… kind of great. A true brother will even wear skirts to stand by you. Isn't that worth respect?
Tang San's gentle face flushed. He lowered his head and quickly began explaining—how the porter mocked him, how the Tianjiao Class only accepted girls, how desperation had forced him into this guise. "I… I had no choice. If I didn't disguise myself, I could never reach you, Teacher."
Subei pinched his nose, half-laughing, half-sighing. "A generation's destined God-King… and now you kneel here in dress and ribbon. What a fall."
Before he could tease further, Tang San suddenly stepped ahead—and dropped to his knees with a resounding plop.
"Teacher!" His forehead struck the damp earth heavily, then again and again. His voice rang with unshakable determination. "Please accept me as your disciple!"
Subei stiffened, almost stumbling back. "What are you doing, Tang San? Get up!"
But Tang San only kowtowed harder, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Teacher, I don't care if Douluo tradition requires it or not. You guided me in Notting, you opened a new sky for me. You gave me strength when I had none. Tang San swears, whether I am seven years old or seventy, your knowledge is priceless. Please accept me!"
The sincerity in his trembling words tugged faintly at Subei's chest.
A slow smile spread across the boy's perfect face—a proud smile, a satisfied one. So my teaching wasn't wasted after all.
…Though, watching Tang San's tearful devotion, Subei also felt the strangest discomfort. Wasn't this worshipping a peer of the same age? It felt almost… embarrassing.
He helped him up, laying a hand on Tang San's arm. "Xiao San, enough. We're the same age. To call me Master feels unnecessary. Call me brother, like Xiao Wu does."
But Tang San shook his head stubbornly, voice thick. "No. Knowledge transcends age. You have what I lack. If you guide me… then even as a child, you are still my teacher. Please don't refuse my sincerity."
His clear eyes shone, rimmed with tears. In his awkward skirt disguise, the sight was strangely pitiful, heartbreakingly earnest.
It tugged against all instinct to refuse.
"Fine," Subei said at last, pressing a hand to his temple in mock surrender. "But if you enter my sect, you will obey its rules."
"Your sect…?" Tang San hesitated.
"Yes," Subei said at once, straightening his back, voice solemn. "The Su Sect. Our clan rarely accepts outsiders. Generally, only women of exceptional talent. You, however, proved such sincerity that I shall make an exception. But all exceptions require obedience to my rules. Do you accept this?"
Tang San's brows furrowed. Memories of Tang Sect from his past life stirred in him. Would following the Su Sect conflict with his old clan's teachings? But then he looked again—looked at the peerless youth whose every movement sparkled with brilliance, whose voice steadied his lingering confusion.
No. Such a young man could not possibly demand anything dishonorable.
He lowered his head. "Please, Teacher… instruct me."
Subei smirked inwardly. Hook, line, sinker.
"Then hear me. Rule One of Su Sect—" He raised a finger, his tone like thunder. "Never covet your teacher's talent. Never betray your teacher. And most importantly—maintain proper distance from the women close to your teacher at all times!"
Tang San blinked, stunned at the oddly specific clause. But his devotion did not falter. "I will obey!"
Subei nodded, satisfied, and continued. "Rule Two—never act against conscience or justice. In times of danger, prioritize the teacher's safety, and never, under any circumstance, harm a disciple of Su Sect without explicit order."
Tang San pressed his fists together. "Tang San knows and accepts!"
"And Rule Three—show absolute respect to the teacher, and never disobey an order."
Tang San gave a solemn nod. "From today until death, I take Teacher as my faith."
A pleased gleam lit Subei's gaze. "Then understand this also. Whoever violates Su Sect rules… shall suffer heart-devouring torment, barren legacy, and bleed from the seven orifices until death takes them!"
Tang San felt a chill. He quickly summoned his martial spirit with trembling solemnity, silver-streaked vines blooming instantly in the air. "Teacher, please guide me!"
Subei produced a small porcelain vial, engraved with a strange blue skull and a curling design of grass—characters of Baicaosheng elegantly etched beneath.
"Your initiation gift," Subei said mildly, tilting the vial. A fine mist spread across Tang San's Blue Silver Grass. Unlike crude spirit enhancers, this seemed to soak directly into his martial spirit, harmonizing into its veins. Silver glow deepened, strengthening vine to steel.
Tang San gasped, clutching the sparkling tendrils. The Blue Silver Grass felt tougher, sharper, alive with vigor as if reborn again.
"Teacher!" he breathed, trembling. "What medicine is this? Each time it touches my martial spirit, my control sharpens, my Blue Silver Grass transforms! Look—"
With a flex, the vines merged into a rigid shaft, snapping forward like a spear. Thunk! The makeshift lance pierced clean through the thick bark of a nearby tree.
His breath came sharp, his eyes wide in awe. "My Blue Silver Grass… it can even be wielded as a weapon!"
Pride curled in Subei's smile. That's right, little Tang San. With my "miracle herbicide" in your hands, trash becomes treasure. Let them call you prodigy now.
For Tang San, tears welled as he bowed low. "Teacher… your grace is greater than Heaven. Tang San swears—this life is yours to guide!"
Subei's lips curved slyly. Not bad. Not only a goddess collector, but also a future god king disciple. My Su Sect isn't small—it starts here with skirts, tears, and destiny.
And thus, the first seed of the Su Sect was planted in laughter and sincerity on the quiet shore.
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