Chương 160: Chapter 159: Master and Disciple
Dao of the World Walker (Craft-based Slice of life Xianxia with World Hopping) · Unknown author · 175 chương · ~17 phút đọc · Tạo 05/07/2026
"Done looking?"
"Sit," his master commanded. Yang looked around and started towards one of the seats along the path towards the dais.
"No. Sit here." Yang looked up to find his master gesturing to a plush velvet cushion positioned directly beside his own seat on the dais. Yang hesitated for a moment and then steeled himself and climbed the steps to sit on the cushion at his master's right side. His master shifted, turning his body slightly towards Yang, leaning back with one elbow propped on the armrest and his head resting against his hand in a posture of complete languid indolence.
"Disciple," he said, with a note of amusement colouring his tone.
"Do you have nothing to ask this master of yours?" Yang thought for a moment, deciding directness was probably his best option.
"Master, why did you choose me as your disciple?" His master's lip twitched.
"Why? Did you not ask that newly titled Senior Brother of yours?"
"I did," Yang admitted.
"He said it was best if I asked you myself."
"Hmm" Followed by a short pause.
"I didn't." Yang blinked. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, he found himself thoroughly confused again.
"Master?"
"I did not choose you, Disciple." His master said, as if stating the most obvious fact.
"You were my disciple in the same way the sun is hot, the water is wet, and the ice is cold." Yang stared at him.
"I don't understand."
"I know." This did absolutely nothing to ease his confusion. His master looked intently at him as he asked, "Tell me, Disciple. Does a father choose his child? Does a mother choose hers?" Yang opened his mouth, then hesitated.
"They simply are parent and child," his master continued.
"Whether they love one another or despise one another, whether they acknowledge the bond or deny it entirely, it does not change what they are."
"But parents still make choices," Yang said, the words slipping out before he could think better of them.
"Even if unintentionally. Their actions lead to a child's existence. They become parents as a result of those choices." Yang could hardly believe he was debating with his master less than ten minutes into their second meeting. But apparently it was the right thing to do because his master threw his head back and let out a laugh before he tilted his head slightly at Yang and asked.
"What makes you think I had no hand in your existence?" Yang froze completely. For several long moments, he had no idea how to respond or even how to process what he had just heard. He did not know this recently acquired master of his well enough to tell whether this was a bad joke or deliberate provocation. He was fairly certain the man was not literally claiming to be his biological father. At least he hoped not.
And yet this was also the same man who had calmly informed the Sect Master and several elders that Yang was already his disciple before exchanging a single word with him. Perhaps, in the grand scheme of his master's eccentricities, this wasn't even the strangest thing he would say. They settled into a silence, mostly because Yang didn't have any words to respond to such a statement. But surprisingly, it was not an uncomfortable silence.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Yang saw his master produce a handful of small berry-like fruit from his storage ring, passing a fistful to Yang first before taking out another handful for himself. Yang looked at them. Small red berries, gleaming like polished rubies, almost too perfect to be real. He thanked his master and carefully put one in his mouth.
The moment it touched his tongue before he could even bite it, tangy citrus flavour flooded across his palate, an amount of juice far beyond what something this size should reasonably contain. He swallowed quickly before he could embarrass himself by having it dribble out of his mouth. He also noticed, with some surprise, that the berry had left behind no skin or pulp, nothing solid at all. It had simply burst into liquid the moment it had entered his mouth.
And then the second part hit him, more impressive than the first. A buzz of qi moved through him immediately, the berry carrying a remarkable density of qi for its small size. He took a second one without thinking, and the sensation repeated, slightly less startling than the first time but no less noticeable. A chuckle came from beside him, and Yang found his master to be watching him with clear amusement.
"Sorry," Yang said, slightly embarrassed.
"Don't, I rather enjoy that," His master said without a trace of shame, and Yang began to understand a little why Senior Brother Zhan Hao was apparently his master's favourite and why he had once claimed that Senior Brother Zhen Hao took after him.
"These are called Red Pearl Berries. We have quite a few trees growing across the Soaring Cloud Peak. You may pick them yourself or wait for someone else to harvest a batch and take a share. None of your senior brothers will refuse their youngest Junior Brother anything, especially not fruit." A faint smile touched his mouth.
"It will be good for that brat Zhen Hao to learn to make way for a junior brother." He took out another handful, casting a glance at Yang's still full hands, eating through them leisurely.
"Disciple, tell me about yourself." His master ate another berry and swallowed before continuing. His demeanour relaxed further.
"You are my disciple and I your Master. But who is Chen Yang? What is his story?" Yang found himself at a crossroads. White Cloud Sect had done nothing but show him kindness since the day he arrived. Every senior, elder, disciple he had encountered had earned at least some measure of his trust, and this man sitting beside him had apparently decided Yang was his before they had even spoken. In the end, he chose to have faith over suspicion.
He would rather regret placing his trust in someone than spend the rest of his life regretting that he never did.
"I was born in… a world called Earth." Yang began taking a steadying breath.
"That world was, in some ways, better than this one and in other ways worse."
"Better, I would say, for most mortals and poor people. There was unfairness and cruelty there, too. War and famine, too. But it was not as openly accepted as it seems to be here. I am sure slavery also existed in some form or other, but nothing as blatant and acceptable as it is in this world. And life for women was better in most places than it appears to be for mortal women here."
He looked at his master, who was still casually working his way through the berries, popping them one after another in his mouth at a steady, unhurried pace as Yang laid out what felt like the most significant secrets of his entire existence. Apparently, no one bothered to inform his master of that because he produced two more handfuls of berries from his storage ring and passed one to Yang, gesturing to him to keep eating while he talked. The only thing missing to complete the picture was a bucket of popcorn.
He pushed aside the disgruntled feeling that his dramatic narration was being undercut by his master, creating an atmosphere of, well, watching a mediocre Netflix show. He decided to abandon the cinematic version entirely and just stick with the key points.
"I was a poor man working as a delivery boy. One day, I went to deliver something to a shop full of antiques and crashed into a large mirror and died." He looked up at his master, who continued eating berries without any visible reaction at all. At Yang's stare, his master glanced at him.
"What?"
"Disciple, the first thing any cultivator does after reaching nascent souls is prepare soul preservation treasures and methods. Do you have any idea how many cultivators running around have been reincarnations? Being reborn is nothing special. Many have done it, even if most don't remember their previous lives clearly." His master rolled his eyes and made a small sweeping gesture with his hand, as if to say, Go on. Yang was incredulous.
He had at least expected some acknowledgement of the weight of what he had just said. Maybe some shock about the fact that he had died. Some of his feelings must have shown on his face, because his master added, "Dear Disciple. Don't take it so seriously. You've been reborn, haven't you? Why be so sensitive about dying if it clearly didn't take?" Yang didn't have a good answer for that. So he just continued.
"I came to awareness in darkness. Emptiness. Some kind of void." At this, his master's attention slightly sharpened, though he did not stop eating.
"I was disintegrating. Losing pieces of myself. I think I would have stopped existing entirely."
"You would have," his master said.
"No mortal soul could have survived what you are describing." His master interjected as he shovelled another berry into his mouth and waited for Yang to continue.
"Then there was some kind of light. A bead or something like one. It extended tendrils and gathered the pieces of me that were drifting apart and dispersing. I don't know how or what it was, but it saved me. The next thing I remember is being reborn in a mud hut where my mother died birthing me."
"Hmm." His master threw another berry into his mouth.
"That would explain the entity trying to merge with your soul."
