Chapter 170
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Chapter 170
Appearances can be deceiving.
Take for example the pale-skinned, raven-haired, green-eyed beauty Han BoLao. At first, she seemed little more than a busty socialite, with impeccable manners and an angelic laugh. Making her way through the room, she had a kind word and soft touch for everyone she met, nothing like her reputation. Realizing her name was a homonym for her moniker, Shrike, I almost tricked myself into thinking she was nothing more than the victim of overblown rumours. I mean, I know better than most how far-fetched those can get.
Though ignorance may be bliss, it was impossible to remain ignorant after BoLao slammed her fist down and demanded the Purge begin immediately, unwilling to delay a minute longer than necessary. Sitting calmly at the head of the table, the fervour in her eyes and smile on her face sent a shiver through my body, her focus elsewhere as if already planning the horrors she would inflict. Extremism is a terrifying thing to see in action, the guilt of the villagers decided after mere seconds of contemplation.
If I brought up innocent until proven guilty, the best case scenario would be a few laughs and jeers. Theyd probably lock me away for being a madman.
Or worse.
Though I know Baledagh had no choice but to report the Defiled outbreak, I feel sick to my stomach after giving our testimony, as if everything which follows is now my fault. He seems indifferent to it all, once again reaffirming my belief that he fits in better than I ever will, able to accept the logic behind mass murder. Listening to Yuzhen impassively explain how she plans to carry it out isnt helping. Encircling the civilians, driving them towards the lake, gathered in droves to be tortured and executed en masse, it all seems so surreal.
Its not enough to kill, no thatd be nothing more than murder. They need proof of corruption, of Defilement, and what better proof than the corpse of a newly turned Demon? Its a twisted, backwards logic which everyone accepts without batting an eye, the deaths a foregone conclusion, a mere statistic not worth caring about. Worst of all, at her request, Ive been assigned to BoLaos detail, which means I cant even bury my head in the sand. The more time I spend out in the world, the more I never want to leave home again. Then again, home is now the Bridge for me, and I cant say for sure if itd be better there.nove(l)bi(n.)com
The meeting over, I hurry out the door for a breath of fresh air and much-needed solitude. The cavalier atmosphere is unreal, making me doubt my sanity. How can these people be so callous? Not a single one of them seems sorrowful, many even excited by the prospect of Demons, eager to carry out their civic duty and receive recognition for their efforts. Its disgusting.
Warrant Officer Falling Rain? An unfamiliar voice calls out and Gerel shoots me a look, warning me to play nice before going on his merry way. Turning around, I see Dastan Zhandos, the Warrant Officer from Sanshu, saluting in greeting. If I may have a moment of your time.
Ugh. What now? Ive never spoken to him before, why does he want to talk now? Is this important? Ive pressing matters to attend to.
A few minutes is all I ask for, please. Handing me a sealed letter with both hands, he waits for me to read it.
Skipping all the flowery greetings, I jump to the heart of the matter. Essentially, the Council is offering me a substantial reward for my testimony against Yuzhen. Raising an eyebrow at Dastan, I drop all pretenses and toss the letter to the ground. Are you serious? Were about to embark on a slaughter of tens of thousands and you want to play politics? You heard what Ive been up to during my absence and you still think I have something to do with the Mothers Militia?
Blanching as he backs away, Dastan holds raises his hands in a placating gesture. My apologies, I was unaware of the contents, I was only asked to pass the message along and hear your response.
Well heres my response: I dont give a shit about the Council. My actions have all been in service to the Empire. I hunted bandits because it was the task assigned by the Marshal himself. There was no deeper plot or devious scheme, and if my actions inconvenienced the Council, then good. Fuck them, they tried to have me killed for doing my job. Spitting to the side, I wave him away, barely able to keep myself from punching him. Excuse me, I have to go prepare to slaughter thousands of helpless citizens.
Stomping back to my campgrounds, my anger subsides as I brush and harness Mafu, the fat quin too excited to stand still. Maybe I should have been more diplomatic with Dastan, but fuck him. Of all the people here, I would have thought hed be the most sympathetic considering his humble origins. Instead, hes running around playing messenger for ignorant, self-absorbed fat-cats, caring nothing for the plight of the citizens.
Hugging Mafu for comfort, I bury my face in his thick fur. Im not really angry at Dastan for not doing anything. Theres nothing he can do, and theres nothing I can do either.
The Purge is here, and nothing short of Divine Intervention will stop it.
And lucky me, I get a front row seat, standing beside the architect of it all, Han BoLao.
Woooo....
Dont sell yourself short, it takes more than luck to defeat you, though Ill admit the boy had his fair share.
You watched the duel? At Jukais nod, Zian hesitated before asking, Your thoughts?
Without preamble, Jukai answered. You should have won, nine times out of ten. Which makes it all the more important to reflect on how and why you lost. You know why you lost, right?
This audacious upstart of a Colonel... His voice dripping with sarcasm, Zian replied, Pray tell.
Shaking his head, Jukai grimaced. The frailty of genius, unable to accept criticism. In my eyes, genius and talent are worthless. With all due respect, your Uncle Jia Yang was no genius in his youth, overshadowed by many of his peers. Through hard work, dedication, and skillful diplomacy, he now stands a step below the pinnacle, while those geniuses of yesteryear are little more than ashes scattered to the wind.
A forlorn look overcame the old codger, silently mourning the past until Zian impatiently hurried him on. Yes, hes incredible, enough flattery, get to the point. How did Falling Rain defeat me?
Sighing, Jukai scratched his beard.Honestly, this is the sort of conclusion you should make on your own. You're not going to like hearing it.
Explain.
Fine, Im getting up there in years anyways. Jukai was well prepared for this conversation, the reasons flying from his mouth. He didnt defeat you, you defeated yourself. You watched him fight three times before your match. Two matches he won cleanly, easily countering his over-aggressive opponents. In comparison, against a less skilled slave who fought defensively, he struggled, even losing a foot in the process. Seeing all this, you should have realized Falling Rain is better at staying alive than he is at killing. The appropriate response would have been to take your time and distance yourself, using your range to force him on the offensive and wear him down. Instead, you did the reverse. You fought in close quarters combat like a fool and played to his strengths.
While Zian contemplated having the man dismembered, Jukai continued to prattle on, unaware of the danger. Your fighting style is perfect, but too perfect. By always acting in the optimal manner, it allows your opponent to read you like an open book. Falling Rain instinctively guarded his most vulnerable areas and you went after them like an idiot. Its not your fault entirely, youve been called a genius all your life because you could emulate the Forms without flaw, yet youve no mastery over them. The Forms are a guideline, musical notes on a sheet. Young Master is an excellent musician but to rise above your peers, you must learn how to compose.
Unable to speak for anger, Zian continued riding in silence. No matter how he approached the argument, he found no suitable retort, no hole in Jukais logic. Though it was Uncle Yang who ordered him to end things quickly, Zian should have realized it was mounting rage and frayed nerves speaking. The more he mulled it over, the more he came to appreciate Jukais insight. Though the criticism hurt, as the old Colonel said, it was important he realized these flaws.
Perfection his flaw, how fanciful and absurd. Fitting though, for a man of his standing. In search of the pinnacle, hed blinded himself to the truth, that perfection was a matter of perspective. The optimal course was also the obvious one, and therefore no longer optimal. A curious dilemma. Swallowing his pride, he turned to Jukai and asked, So how do I learn to compose?
Smiling proudly, the old Colonel sighed in relief. Oh good, thought I destined for the rope. Terrible way for a warrior to go.
Noted.
Haha. As to how to compose, I cant teach you. A tiger teaching a dragon to hunt will only hinder the dragon, for a tiger has no wings. Every individual must forge their own Martial Path, step by arduous step, and only then will they reach the apex. Be critical of your own work, explore new options, practice, sweat, bleed, and given time, your personal style will take shape. I can criticize though, so prepare yourself. Your movements are too inflexible...
While Jukai continued to expound on the Martial Path, Zian listened intently, committing every word to memory. Though Uncle was an incredible man, he was not without flaws, unable to voice his thoughts as simply as Jukai, the old Colonel delivering succinct yet profound advice with every sentence. Even in sparring, Zian felt he learned much from Jukais guidance while Uncle never stepped in personally. An almost heretical thought surfaced and though he tried to suppress it, it continued to float about in his mind, stirring up waves of guilt within him.
Perhaps Zian had erred in taking Uncle as his Master. The best teachers might not always be the strongest individuals. Either way, the time for self-pity was over, and though he'd lost his place as the number one talent of his generation, it mattered not.
No matter what obstacle lay within his path, Situ Jia Zian would reach the apex, standing taller than any before him.
Chapter Meme
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Chapter 170
Appearances can be deceiving.
Take for example the pale-skinned, raven-haired, green-eyed beauty Han BoLao. At first, she seemed little more than a busty socialite, with impeccable manners and an angelic laugh. Making her way through the room, she had a kind word and soft touch for everyone she met, nothing like her reputation. Realizing her name was a homonym for her moniker, Shrike, I almost tricked myself into thinking she was nothing more than the victim of overblown rumours. I mean, I know better than most how far-fetched those can get.
Though ignorance may be bliss, it was impossible to remain ignorant after BoLao slammed her fist down and demanded the Purge begin immediately, unwilling to delay a minute longer than necessary. Sitting calmly at the head of the table, the fervour in her eyes and smile on her face sent a shiver through my body, her focus elsewhere as if already planning the horrors she would inflict. Extremism is a terrifying thing to see in action, the guilt of the villagers decided after mere seconds of contemplation.
If I brought up innocent until proven guilty, the best case scenario would be a few laughs and jeers. Theyd probably lock me away for being a madman.
Or worse.
Though I know Baledagh had no choice but to report the Defiled outbreak, I feel sick to my stomach after giving our testimony, as if everything which follows is now my fault. He seems indifferent to it all, once again reaffirming my belief that he fits in better than I ever will, able to accept the logic behind mass murder. Listening to Yuzhen impassively explain how she plans to carry it out isnt helping. Encircling the civilians, driving them towards the lake, gathered in droves to be tortured and executed en masse, it all seems so surreal.
Its not enough to kill, no thatd be nothing more than murder. They need proof of corruption, of Defilement, and what better proof than the corpse of a newly turned Demon? Its a twisted, backwards logic which everyone accepts without batting an eye, the deaths a foregone conclusion, a mere statistic not worth caring about. Worst of all, at her request, Ive been assigned to BoLaos detail, which means I cant even bury my head in the sand. The more time I spend out in the world, the more I never want to leave home again. Then again, home is now the Bridge for me, and I cant say for sure if itd be better there.nove(l)bi(n.)com
The meeting over, I hurry out the door for a breath of fresh air and much-needed solitude. The cavalier atmosphere is unreal, making me doubt my sanity. How can these people be so callous? Not a single one of them seems sorrowful, many even excited by the prospect of Demons, eager to carry out their civic duty and receive recognition for their efforts. Its disgusting.
Warrant Officer Falling Rain? An unfamiliar voice calls out and Gerel shoots me a look, warning me to play nice before going on his merry way. Turning around, I see Dastan Zhandos, the Warrant Officer from Sanshu, saluting in greeting. If I may have a moment of your time.
Ugh. What now? Ive never spoken to him before, why does he want to talk now? Is this important? Ive pressing matters to attend to.
A few minutes is all I ask for, please. Handing me a sealed letter with both hands, he waits for me to read it.
Skipping all the flowery greetings, I jump to the heart of the matter. Essentially, the Council is offering me a substantial reward for my testimony against Yuzhen. Raising an eyebrow at Dastan, I drop all pretenses and toss the letter to the ground. Are you serious? Were about to embark on a slaughter of tens of thousands and you want to play politics? You heard what Ive been up to during my absence and you still think I have something to do with the Mothers Militia?
Blanching as he backs away, Dastan holds raises his hands in a placating gesture. My apologies, I was unaware of the contents, I was only asked to pass the message along and hear your response.
Well heres my response: I dont give a shit about the Council. My actions have all been in service to the Empire. I hunted bandits because it was the task assigned by the Marshal himself. There was no deeper plot or devious scheme, and if my actions inconvenienced the Council, then good. Fuck them, they tried to have me killed for doing my job. Spitting to the side, I wave him away, barely able to keep myself from punching him. Excuse me, I have to go prepare to slaughter thousands of helpless citizens.
Stomping back to my campgrounds, my anger subsides as I brush and harness Mafu, the fat quin too excited to stand still. Maybe I should have been more diplomatic with Dastan, but fuck him. Of all the people here, I would have thought hed be the most sympathetic considering his humble origins. Instead, hes running around playing messenger for ignorant, self-absorbed fat-cats, caring nothing for the plight of the citizens.
Hugging Mafu for comfort, I bury my face in his thick fur. Im not really angry at Dastan for not doing anything. Theres nothing he can do, and theres nothing I can do either.
The Purge is here, and nothing short of Divine Intervention will stop it.
And lucky me, I get a front row seat, standing beside the architect of it all, Han BoLao.
Woooo....
Dont sell yourself short, it takes more than luck to defeat you, though Ill admit the boy had his fair share.
You watched the duel? At Jukais nod, Zian hesitated before asking, Your thoughts?
Without preamble, Jukai answered. You should have won, nine times out of ten. Which makes it all the more important to reflect on how and why you lost. You know why you lost, right?
This audacious upstart of a Colonel... His voice dripping with sarcasm, Zian replied, Pray tell.
Shaking his head, Jukai grimaced. The frailty of genius, unable to accept criticism. In my eyes, genius and talent are worthless. With all due respect, your Uncle Jia Yang was no genius in his youth, overshadowed by many of his peers. Through hard work, dedication, and skillful diplomacy, he now stands a step below the pinnacle, while those geniuses of yesteryear are little more than ashes scattered to the wind.
A forlorn look overcame the old codger, silently mourning the past until Zian impatiently hurried him on. Yes, hes incredible, enough flattery, get to the point. How did Falling Rain defeat me?
Sighing, Jukai scratched his beard.Honestly, this is the sort of conclusion you should make on your own. You're not going to like hearing it.
Explain.
Fine, Im getting up there in years anyways. Jukai was well prepared for this conversation, the reasons flying from his mouth. He didnt defeat you, you defeated yourself. You watched him fight three times before your match. Two matches he won cleanly, easily countering his over-aggressive opponents. In comparison, against a less skilled slave who fought defensively, he struggled, even losing a foot in the process. Seeing all this, you should have realized Falling Rain is better at staying alive than he is at killing. The appropriate response would have been to take your time and distance yourself, using your range to force him on the offensive and wear him down. Instead, you did the reverse. You fought in close quarters combat like a fool and played to his strengths.
While Zian contemplated having the man dismembered, Jukai continued to prattle on, unaware of the danger. Your fighting style is perfect, but too perfect. By always acting in the optimal manner, it allows your opponent to read you like an open book. Falling Rain instinctively guarded his most vulnerable areas and you went after them like an idiot. Its not your fault entirely, youve been called a genius all your life because you could emulate the Forms without flaw, yet youve no mastery over them. The Forms are a guideline, musical notes on a sheet. Young Master is an excellent musician but to rise above your peers, you must learn how to compose.
Unable to speak for anger, Zian continued riding in silence. No matter how he approached the argument, he found no suitable retort, no hole in Jukais logic. Though it was Uncle Yang who ordered him to end things quickly, Zian should have realized it was mounting rage and frayed nerves speaking. The more he mulled it over, the more he came to appreciate Jukais insight. Though the criticism hurt, as the old Colonel said, it was important he realized these flaws.
Perfection his flaw, how fanciful and absurd. Fitting though, for a man of his standing. In search of the pinnacle, hed blinded himself to the truth, that perfection was a matter of perspective. The optimal course was also the obvious one, and therefore no longer optimal. A curious dilemma. Swallowing his pride, he turned to Jukai and asked, So how do I learn to compose?
Smiling proudly, the old Colonel sighed in relief. Oh good, thought I destined for the rope. Terrible way for a warrior to go.
Noted.
Haha. As to how to compose, I cant teach you. A tiger teaching a dragon to hunt will only hinder the dragon, for a tiger has no wings. Every individual must forge their own Martial Path, step by arduous step, and only then will they reach the apex. Be critical of your own work, explore new options, practice, sweat, bleed, and given time, your personal style will take shape. I can criticize though, so prepare yourself. Your movements are too inflexible...
While Jukai continued to expound on the Martial Path, Zian listened intently, committing every word to memory. Though Uncle was an incredible man, he was not without flaws, unable to voice his thoughts as simply as Jukai, the old Colonel delivering succinct yet profound advice with every sentence. Even in sparring, Zian felt he learned much from Jukais guidance while Uncle never stepped in personally. An almost heretical thought surfaced and though he tried to suppress it, it continued to float about in his mind, stirring up waves of guilt within him.
Perhaps Zian had erred in taking Uncle as his Master. The best teachers might not always be the strongest individuals. Either way, the time for self-pity was over, and though he'd lost his place as the number one talent of his generation, it mattered not.
No matter what obstacle lay within his path, Situ Jia Zian would reach the apex, standing taller than any before him.
Chapter Meme
Chapter 170Appearances can be deceiving.Take for example the pale-skinned, raven-haired, green-eyed beauty Han BoLao. At first, she seemed little more than a busty socialite, with impeccable manners and an angelic laugh. Making her way through the room, she had a kind word and soft touch for everyone she met, nothing like her reputation. Realizing her name was a homonym for her moniker, Shrike, I almost tricked myself into thinking she was nothing more than the victim of overblown rumours. I mean, I know better than most how far-fetched those can get.Though ignorance may be bliss, it was impossible to remain ignorant after BoLao slammed her fist down and demanded the Purge begin immediately, unwilling to delay a minute longer than necessary. Sitting calmly at the head of the table, the fervour in her eyes and smile on her face sent a shiver through my body, her focus elsewhere as if already planning the horrors she would inflict. Extremism is a terrifying thing to see in action, the guilt of the villagers decided after mere seconds of contemplation.If I brought up innocent until proven guilty, the best case scenario would be a few laughs and jeers. Theyd probably lock me away for being a madman.Or worse.Though I know Baledagh had no choice but to report the Defiled outbreak, I feel sick to my stomach after giving our testimony, as if everything which follows is now my fault. He seems indifferent to it all, once again reaffirming my belief that he fits in better than I ever will, able to accept the logic behind mass murder. Listening to Yuzhen impassively explain how she plans to carry it out isnt helping. Encircling the civilians, driving them towards the lake, gathered in droves to be tortured and executed en masse, it all seems so surreal.Its not enough to kill, no thatd be nothing more than murder. They need proof of corruption, of Defilement, and what better proof than the corpse of a newly turned Demon? Its a twisted, backwards logic which everyone accepts without batting an eye, the deaths a foregone conclusion, a mere statistic not worth caring about. Worst of all, at her request, Ive been assigned to BoLaos detail, which means I cant even bury my head in the sand. The more time I spend out in the world, the more I never want to leave home again. Then again, home is now the Bridge for me, and I cant say for sure if itd be better there.novelbin.comThe meeting over, I hurry out the door for a breath of fresh air and much-needed solitude. The cavalier atmosphere is unreal, making me doubt my sanity. How can these people be so callous? Not a single one of them seems sorrowful, many even excited by the prospect of Demons, eager to carry out their civic duty and receive recognition for their efforts. Its disgusting.Warrant Officer Falling Rain? An unfamiliar voice calls out and Gerel shoots me a look, warning me to play nice before going on his merry way. Turning around, I see Dastan Zhandos, the Warrant Officer from Sanshu, saluting in greeting. If I may have a moment of your time.Ugh. What now? Ive never spoken to him before, why does he want to talk now? Is this important? Ive pressing matters to attend to.A few minutes is all I ask for, please. Handing me a sealed letter with both hands, he waits for me to read it.Skipping all the flowery greetings, I jump to the heart of the matter. Essentially, the Council is offering me a substantial reward for my testimony against Yuzhen. Raising an eyebrow at Dastan, I drop all pretenses and toss the letter to the ground. Are you serious? Were about to embark on a slaughter of tens of thousands and you want to play politics? You heard what Ive been up to during my absence and you still think I have something to do with the Mothers Militia?Blanching as he backs away, Dastan holds raises his hands in a placating gesture. My apologies, I was unaware of the contents, I was only asked to pass the message along and hear your response.Well heres my response: I dont give a shit about the Council. My actions have all been in service to the Empire. I hunted bandits because it was the task assigned by the Marshal himself. There was no deeper plot or devious scheme, and if my actions inconvenienced the Council, then good. Fuck them, they tried to have me killed for doing my job. Spitting to the side, I wave him away, barely able to keep myself from punching him. Excuse me, I have to go prepare to slaughter thousands of helpless citizens.Stomping back to my campgrounds, my anger subsides as I brush and harness Mafu, the fat quin too excited to stand still. Maybe I should have been more diplomatic with Dastan, but fuck him. Of all the people here, I would have thought hed be the most sympathetic considering his humble origins. Instead, hes running around playing messenger for ignorant, self-absorbed fat-cats, caring nothing for the plight of the citizens.Hugging Mafu for comfort, I bury my face in his thick fur. Im not really angry at Dastan for not doing anything. Theres nothing he can do, and theres nothing I can do either.The Purge is here, and nothing short of Divine Intervention will stop it.And lucky me, I get a front row seat, standing beside the architect of it all, Han BoLao.Woooo....Dont sell yourself short, it takes more than luck to defeat you, though Ill admit the boy had his fair share.You watched the duel? At Jukais nod, Zian hesitated before asking, Your thoughts?Without preamble, Jukai answered. You should have won, nine times out of ten. Which makes it all the more important to reflect on how and why you lost. You know why you lost, right?This audacious upstart of a Colonel... His voice dripping with sarcasm, Zian replied, Pray tell.Shaking his head, Jukai grimaced. The frailty of genius, unable to accept criticism. In my eyes, genius and talent are worthless. With all due respect, your Uncle Jia Yang was no genius in his youth, overshadowed by many of his peers. Through hard work, dedication, and skillful diplomacy, he now stands a step below the pinnacle, while those geniuses of yesteryear are little more than ashes scattered to the wind.A forlorn look overcame the old codger, silently mourning the past until Zian impatiently hurried him on. Yes, hes incredible, enough flattery, get to the point. How did Falling Rain defeat me?Sighing, Jukai scratched his beard.Honestly, this is the sort of conclusion you should make on your own. You're not going to like hearing it.Explain.Fine, Im getting up there in years anyways. Jukai was well prepared for this conversation, the reasons flying from his mouth. He didnt defeat you, you defeated yourself. You watched him fight three times before your match. Two matches he won cleanly, easily countering his over-aggressive opponents. In comparison, against a less skilled slave who fought defensively, he struggled, even losing a foot in the process. Seeing all this, you should have realized Falling Rain is better at staying alive than he is at killing. The appropriate response would have been to take your time and distance yourself, using your range to force him on the offensive and wear him down. Instead, you did the reverse. You fought in close quarters combat like a fool and played to his strengths.While Zian contemplated having the man dismembered, Jukai continued to prattle on, unaware of the danger. Your fighting style is perfect, but too perfect. By always acting in the optimal manner, it allows your opponent to read you like an open book. Falling Rain instinctively guarded his most vulnerable areas and you went after them like an idiot. Its not your fault entirely, youve been called a genius all your life because you could emulate the Forms without flaw, yet youve no mastery over them. The Forms are a guideline, musical notes on a sheet. Young Master is an excellent musician but to rise above your peers, you must learn how to compose.Unable to speak for anger, Zian continued riding in silence. No matter how he approached the argument, he found no suitable retort, no hole in Jukais logic. Though it was Uncle Yang who ordered him to end things quickly, Zian should have realized it was mounting rage and frayed nerves speaking. The more he mulled it over, the more he came to appreciate Jukais insight. Though the criticism hurt, as the old Colonel said, it was important he realized these flaws.Perfection his flaw, how fanciful and absurd. Fitting though, for a man of his standing. In search of the pinnacle, hed blinded himself to the truth, that perfection was a matter of perspective. The optimal course was also the obvious one, and therefore no longer optimal. A curious dilemma. Swallowing his pride, he turned to Jukai and asked, So how do I learn to compose?Smiling proudly, the old Colonel sighed in relief. Oh good, thought I destined for the rope. Terrible way for a warrior to go.Noted.Haha. As to how to compose, I cant teach you. A tiger teaching a dragon to hunt will only hinder the dragon, for a tiger has no wings. Every individual must forge their own Martial Path, step by arduous step, and only then will they reach the apex. Be critical of your own work, explore new options, practice, sweat, bleed, and given time, your personal style will take shape. I can criticize though, so prepare yourself. Your movements are too inflexible...While Jukai continued to expound on the Martial Path, Zian listened intently, committing every word to memory. Though Uncle was an incredible man, he was not without flaws, unable to voice his thoughts as simply as Jukai, the old Colonel delivering succinct yet profound advice with every sentence. Even in sparring, Zian felt he learned much from Jukais guidance while Uncle never stepped in personally. An almost heretical thought surfaced and though he tried to suppress it, it continued to float about in his mind, stirring up waves of guilt within him.Perhaps Zian had erred in taking Uncle as his Master. The best teachers might not always be the strongest individuals. Either way, the time for self-pity was over, and though he'd lost his place as the number one talent of his generation, it mattered not.No matter what obstacle lay within his path, Situ Jia Zian would reach the apex, standing taller than any before him.Chapter Meme
