Chương 72: Interlude: Elder Sun – You Want Me To Teach You?

A long time ago. What was his name? He sometimes struggled to remember. Sun Longwei. Longwei. He did remember that name. It was the name he had grown up with. What his parents had called him. His sister. She had been dead for half a millennium. More, by now. Time flew by. He did remember the games they played. So much laughter. She had been stronger than him in many ways. But… she hadn't passed the Heavenly trial. She had lived a glorious mortal life, though.

He was sure that if he tried, he could still find some of her descendants. Six, no seven children. And each one of them had been a decent person. There was no one he missed more. And there were lots to miss. Forlorn Hope. With a dedicated effort of will, he suppressed his aura. There was no reason to give the people in the camp even more reasons to have nightmares. A year, or ten on the frontlines, would do that all on its own.

Whenever he had spent a couple of decades on the frontlines, that was the name he most easily reacted to. The tacticians would call for him by that name. He would go out there and hold the line when everything else had failed. The demons would call him by that name. Did he enjoy it? He had hated it when he was younger. He had always wanted to bring hope. Not take it away. Just another thing that the demons had taken from him. Was he him? That was the question, wasn't it?

'Not yet' was probably the most honest answer. When, though? When! There was no if. They would lose. It had been clear for a long time. The moment would come when he wouldn't be able to rest anymore. Where he wouldn't stop fighting until it would all end, at least for him. That, at the very latest, would be the moment he became Forlorn Hope. Still a few hundred years in the future if things didn't change. That left the last name. Elder Sun. For the next year or two, people would call him Elder Sun.

As if he were an old man. He chuckled dryly. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it What were a few hundred years, give or take? Elder. He very well remembered the days when he had become a disciple. Oh, how awe-inspiring the elders had been. Was he that? Was he him? It would be… pleasant. Settling down in the sect without the knowledge that it was just a brief break. It must be nice. Not that he didn't acknowledge the need for teachers to remain in the sect.

But he struggled to hide his resentment and disdain for those who used it as an excuse not to fight. His master had recommended that he take on a student or two. It seemed like a waste of time. They would die soon anyway. Why get attached and invest time? No, better to spend his time in the sect making sure that the region was stable. If he got unlucky, the patriarch would learn about his presence and want to talk with him again about becoming his successor. Ridiculous.

He could admit that the patriarch position was needed and that filling the role and not fighting on the frontlines was… valid. But him? Ridiculous. Let them squabble and shuffle for positions. He restrained his aura. Less than ten minutes since the last time was bad—even at the end of his tenure here. He grabbed the last of his possessions in the tent, stored it in his ring, and left the place that had been home for the last two decades. He would be back—soon.

He flew directly to his compound. The idea of somebody wanting him to stop at the paifang was amusing at best. Landing in his courtyard, he was surprised to see that it looked well-maintained. Ah, yes, he remembered a note that the sect had appointed someone to look after it. Just one more person who wasn't fighting on the frontlines. He shrugged and went to his study—he needed to write a few letters to make sure all information about cultist activities in the region reached him. There was no time to lose.

He had barely sat down when one of his formations went off. He raised an eyebrow. That was fast. Even for her. The door to his study opened—he continued writing the letter. Well, he started writing a letter.

"Longwei."

"Xing Yu—or should I say, Elder Wang? I am quite busy. What do you want?" She ignored him and sat down across from him, pulling out a tablet with a tea set. Not any tea set. The tea set. She poured, and the steam brought the familiar fragrance to his senses. Exasperated, he threw his pen to the side.

"Do we really have to do this?"

"You are even more of a fool than usual. I should be the one asking, do we really have to do this every time?" He snorted.

"You didn't use the paifang."

"So what? Who has the time?"

"There was a time when it was important to you." He grabbed the cup she had pushed in his direction.

"That was a long time ago."

"Everything is a long time ago once you reach our age—that doesn't make it less important. What was the saying your master always used?"

"There are too many to count…" he deflected.

"You know which one." He took a long sip of tea. It was good. As always.

"The path of cultivation is a long one—long enough to make mistakes, long enough to learn from them." She had the audacity to grin at him.

"That is the one. You had already learned that it is a mistake to stay away for so long. You had already learned that, for no other reason than your own sanity, it makes sense to apply the rules of civilization while you are here. Why do we have to relearn this every time?" He tapped on the desk with one finger. Why did he have to let her school him in his own study? They had been friends. A long, long time ago. Maybe they still were. Forlorn Hope did not have friends. Elder Sun didn't need friends. Longwei…

He sighed.

"I read that you got the position. Congratulations."

"Yes, Elder for Administration of the Outer Sect. I know you disdain it," she grinned again. He looked her in the eyes for the first time since his return.

"I don't. I am not so far gone that I don't know who keeps us supplied. Who makes sure the younglings learn what they must. They could not have chosen anybody better." She nodded in acknowledgment of his praise. He tapped the desk a few times, then moved the papers to the side. Maybe they could wait for a while.

He stored his spear in his storage ring after the final kata and left the courtyard and his compound. After the tea the previous day, he had resolved not to fly through the inner sect unless needed. For some reason, an almost catatonic inner disciple lay in front of his door. He reeled in his aura. Nobody could be expected to control their aura while training. There was no reason for the disciple to be here. He poked him with his foot while drool was running out of the disciple's mouth.

It seemed that things were worse than he had thought in the sect if disciples couldn't handle a bit of aura exposure from afar. Finally, it looked like the man woke up.

"What are you doing here?" It took a moment for the man to register where he was and with whom he was speaking. To his credit, the moment he did, he jumped up, wiped the drool away, and bowed deeply.

"Honored Elder Sun. My name is Fang Baotian, Inner Disciple, winner of the last two year-end tournaments…" The man looked at him as if he expected praise. His face fell as it didn't come.

"I am honored to say that I share your affinities, Wood and Fire, the pinnacle of affinities, if I may say so, and I humbly ask for you to consider taking me on as a student."

"You want me to teach you?" he asked incredulously.

"And your best argument is that you won some make-believe game?" The man's face turned red.

"I apologize, Honorable Elder. I have many more…"

"Why are you not on the frontlines?" he interrupted the mumbling buffoon. The disciple pushed out his chest.

"I returned last year from the customary two-year stint—I disting…"

"Customary? You mean minimum. You left after the minimum term?" Longwei, Forlorn Hope, Elder Sun jumped into the air and left.