Chapter 22: Want to Be My Disciple?! Not a Chance! (Special Back-to-School Update!)

So brazen and reckless—such audacity! In time, he would punish the boy’s master as well. Yet no one could have predicted the child’s next astonishing act. He dared to test the sacred tree within the sect, and even laid hands upon the feet of the ancestral statues! Had Chu Hanyu not known these visions of the future were merely possibilities, not certainties, he would have intervened himself. Indeed, he had attempted to act, but found he could only follow after the child, unable to see his face. An unfamiliar frustration welled up within him, one he had not felt in centuries.

At that moment, the child spoke to the shadowed interface, “Don’t worry, everyone! Of course, there must be some friends watching my stream for the first time. It’s alright, my master dotes on me. Even if I poke a hole in the sky, he wouldn’t punish me! Yes, yes, you don’t need to praise me—my master is unmatched, the hand of fate, the most handsome man in the Sky Azure Realm, the Lord of All Demons!”

He continued to banter with the mysterious interface, laughter bubbling forth.

Chu Hanyu’s expression was impassive; so this was the result of his own indulgence—would this child become his disciple in the days ahead? Chu Hanyu regarded the back of the boy’s head with a certain cold detachment.

Sensing something, the child turned and said, “Why do I keep feeling someone’s watching me? Yet none of my magical tools are glowing… Haha, what are you all saying on the stream? My master has no interest in my broadcasts! He would never spy!”

So it was him!

Chu Hanyu gazed upon that face, blood rushing to his head. He had welcomed a wolf into his fold! This rascal was far too bold. You brat, go on—tear a hole in the sky if you dare!

The subtle, mysterious aura enveloped Chu Hanyu once more. Since Zhang Ning had turned to look at him, Chu Hanyu found he could project his martial spirit outward. His spirit passed over his third disciple, who was busy with official duties, skipped his second disciple conversing with the immortal Zhao, and even caught the usual sly smile on Zhao’s face. His fourth disciple was molding something out of clay. And himself—he was seated beneath the sacred tree, drinking with Xing Qiluo.

Chu Hanyu could only berate himself—how could he be so disappointing? Was he really just sitting under the tree? When Zhang Ning came to strike it, he neither showed himself nor intervened. Wasn’t it just a matter of lifting a finger? What was he thinking?

When a martial lord releases his spirit, it ascends to the heavens, descends to the depths. Chu Hanyu instantly committed every detail to memory.

The future was uncertain, but right now, he was determined to teach that brat a lesson! Dream on if he thought he could be his disciple—he would have to be out of his mind to allow it!

Chu Hanyu cast one last, lingering glance at Zhang Ning before departing the domain where the laws of time converged.

Meanwhile, the immortal Zhao, reveling in gossip, suddenly felt a pang of anxiety.

Chu Hanyu was on the verge of awakening from his insights into the laws of time; his body stirred, fingers twitching subtly. One should know when to cease asking the heavens. Yet he had not resolved his heart.

At this moment, he was not a flawless paragon standing at the pinnacle of the world, but a man with undeniable weakness. He could not sever the bonds of memory in his heart, and so he made his way toward the Hall of Repose within the Grand Celestial Demon Sect.

The Hall of Repose, as its name implied, was the chamber where the bodies of former masters and heirs of the Grand Celestial Demon Sect were kept, distinct from the Hall of Heroes where the remains of those who had sacrificed themselves for the sect were honored. Only those who once wielded power—the sect masters or heirs who died young—rested here. (Their bodies must be placed together; otherwise, due to the unique cultivation methods, ill effects would ensue. This method of placement preserved their lifelike appearance for a long time.)

Chu Hanyu rarely opened the Hall of Repose, never entrusting its cleaning to others, instead personally arranging various protective formations. He was not concerned about others, for he had fortified the Grand Celestial Demon Sect like an iron bastion. Yet if his disciples discovered his presence in the Hall of Repose, curiosity might compel them or their servants to investigate and uncover the foolish act he had committed. Such a shock to their worldview would be the least of his worries—should word spread, morale would surely be shaken.

But here, a glimpse was not reality—it could do no harm.

He entered the Hall of Repose, paying his respects to the ancestors with reverence, then walked to the spot where he had lingered countless times, and indeed found three coffins side by side.

Those three coffins filled Chu Hanyu with a speechless sorrow.

Originally, there should have been only two: one for Chu Hanyu’s master, and the other prepared for himself. At that time, he had not attained his current realm, uncertain if he would survive another day, so he made arrangements early.

He never imagined that the first to rest in that coffin would not be himself.

Recalling the moment his eldest disciple departed before him, Chu Hanyu could not accept it. After all these years, he could accept the fact of his disciple’s death, but never the agony, the injustice of it.

Unable to contain himself, Chu Hanyu struck his eldest disciple’s coffin with his palm. Such unfilial conduct! To force him to send a child to the grave!

Three coffins: one for his master, one for his eldest disciple, the middle for himself.

He had placed another coffin for himself.

Now, only his remained empty.

A warrior values pride above all; any martial artist of achievement would not act thus. For a martial lord to do so was a disgrace—he mocked himself relentlessly.

Chu Hanyu failed to notice a subtle, mysterious aura creeping forth in the corner, like an indelible shadow, like a demon lurking, ever ready to catch one in error.

He did not realize that this experience had already unsettled his heart; his mind and vision grew clouded.

Time no longer flowed here; it had frozen.

Chu Hanyu stood quietly, and at last, he walked step by step to the central coffin, lifted the lid, and lay himself inside.