It was the dead of night, and Yang Bao lay in bed, the persistent hiss of crickets filling the silence. But it wasn't the crickets that kept him awake; it was the cacophony of a thousand small voices in his head, a relentless questioning. He tossed and turned, a single question gnawing at his mind: Why did Teacher Lee teach them to love, help, and protect each other, yet Guozhao Zhiqiang was punished by Fang Yaoting for doing just that? The more he thought, the more his heart, riddled with doubt, refused to rest. He finally threw off his blankets and rushed out of his room, heading straight for Fang Yaoting's. Seeing the faint glow of candlelight still on, he knew his master was awake, and he knocked, his heart pounding.
"Come in," Fang Yaoting's voice called from within, calm and steady.
Yang Bao slowly pushed the door open, a tremor in his voice. "Third Master, I'm sorry to bother you so late."
Fang Yaoting looked up from his desk, his gaze piercing, as if he had been expecting him. "I know you would come, Ah Bao. I have been waiting for you. Just say what you want. Don't hold back."
"I have something I don't understand," Yang Bao confessed, his voice filled with a desperate need for clarity, "and I need the guidance of the Third Master."
Fang Yaoting rose from his chair, walking towards Yang Bao, his presence commanding, his gaze unwavering. "What don't you understand, Ah Bao?"
Yang Bao's frustration spilled out, raw and honest. "I don't understand why you punished Senior Brother for helping me. Teacher Lee taught us to love and care for one another, but when Senior Brother sympathized and helped me, you punished him. Why would one master teach us to love each other, and another master punishes us for it? It contradicts everything!"
"If he keeps helping you, how can you become better, Ah Bao?" Fang Yaoting stated firmly, his voice sharp, cutting through Yang Bao's confusion. His gaze turned cold, piercing Yang Bao's very soul. "When you are fighting the enemy in the real world, who will help you? Will Zhiqiang always be there to save you?" Fang Yaoting sighed, a hint of weariness in his tone, a profound sadness. "This is also a lesson for Zhiqiang. If he had continued helping you, you would never improve yourself; you would always rely on him or others to save you when you're in trouble. You've experienced it yourself – how many sectors or clans have rejected you because of your leg? Because they saw you as weak?"
Yang Bao lowered his head, shame flushing his cheeks, the memories stinging. "I forgot, Third Master. I forgot the pain."
"You forgot," Fang Yaoting challenged, his voice rising, edged with a fierce intensity, "because you admitted that whatever they said about you was right. You believed their lies."
Yang Bao's head snapped up, anger flaring in his eyes, his body trembling with indignation. He raised his voice, shaking with defiance. "No! What they said about me is wrong! I'm not useless! I'm not weak!"
"Prove to yourself that you are not useless, Ah Bao," Fang Yaoting countered, a challenge in his voice, his gaze intense. He patted Yang Bao's left arm, a firm, encouraging touch. "Don't you want to stand in the fighting arena and challenge those who rejected you because of your disability? Don't you want to show them they were wrong for judging your ability?"
Yang Bao breathed heavily, his fists clenching tightly, raw determination burning in his eyes. "I do, Third Master," he declared, his voice filled with newfound resolve. "I want to be able to look them in the eye and tell them it was wrong to label me useless! I want to prove them wrong!"
"Letting others help you will make you feel that it's okay to slack on your training," Fang Yaoting explained, his voice stern, yet patient. "Do you think that becoming a good hunter is an overnight thing? That strength comes easily?"
"No, Third Master," Yang Bao replied, his voice subdued, accepting the truth.
"Being an excellent hunter requires a lot of physical and mental training," Fang Yaoting continued. "In the future, you will be the one standing here teaching the juniors. If you don't train enough today, if you don't push yourself, you will lack a sense of responsibility in the future training your juniors. You must lead by example."
"Third Master," Yang Bao said, his voice earnest, filled with a deep respect, "I will take your words to my heart. I understand now."
Fang Yaoting softened slightly, a rare, gentle smile touching his lips. "As a man, Ah Bao, your success must come from yourself, not others. Success takes time and hard training. Your legs are disabled; therefore, you must work harder than others. You have a greater challenge." He patted Yang Bao's right shoulder, a gesture of profound encouragement. "Don't let anyone laugh at you because of your disabled leg. Do not let your disabled leg be an excuse to stop you from achieving your goals. You can do everything if you put your heart into it. With hard training, you can become a great swordsman like your brother or any other hunter. In the face of difficult enemies, if you don't train hard, you will be defeated or lose your life. This is the reality."
Yang Bao finally understood. The master's stern words were born of deep kindness, a profound care. Shame washed over him, hot and stinging. He sank to his knees, head bowed, tears welling in his eyes. "Third Master, I was wrong. I was wrong to doubt your teaching. Please forgive me. I have poor judgment and ignored your kindness. It's not right for me to hold a grudge against you and overlook your good intentions. I'm truly sorry."
"Teacher Lee is not wrong, Ah Bao," Fang Yaoting said, his voice softening further as he helped Yang Bao to his feet, his touch gentle. "Helping each other is a good thing, but you have to remember: before helping others, you have to measure whether your help does more good or bad for that person. Sometimes, tough love is necessary." He smiled at Yang Bao, a rare, genuine smile, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I believe that if you practice hard, you will become a better swordsman than Zhiqiang. Zhiqiang may be better at spells, but you will become a better swordsman than him. I have faith in you."
"Third Master," Yang Bao declared, his voice filled with newfound determination, his eyes burning with resolve, "I promise you that I might not be able to outrun Senior Brother, but I will only be a few steps behind him. I will strive for greatness!"
"I can only give you advice, Ah Bao," Fang Yaoting said, walking back to his desk, his voice firm. "It is up to you to take my advice or not. Go back to sleep. You have to train tomorrow. If you can't water one hundred blossom trees by dinner time, then you will continue to eat plain buns for dinner. The rules apply to everyone."
Yang Bao smiled, a genuine, hopeful smile, even as he wiped away lingering tears. "Third Master, I don't want to continue eating plain buns. I will work harder." He turned and walked out of Fang Yaoting's room, a newfound resolve in his stride, his spirit renewed.
When Yang Bao stepped into the empty yard, the full moon cast a soft glow on Guozhao Zhiqiang, standing alone, perfectly still, in a horse stance, his silhouette stark against the moonlight. Yang Bao walked up to him, a new understanding in his heart. "Senior Brother, let's do horse stance together."
Guozhao Zhiqiang turned his head, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, a rare reaction. "Third Master also punishes you, Ah Bao?"
Yang Bao smiled and shook his head. "No, Senior Brother. I just had a heart-to-heart talk with Third Master." He spread his legs, sinking into a horse stance beside Guozhao Zhiqiang, his body aching but his spirit willing. "Also, I have to train hard because I don't want to disappoint our masters. I want to be worthy." He looked at Guozhao Zhiqiang and chuckled, a genuine amusement.
"What's so funny, Ah Bao?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his expression unchanging, though a hint of curiosity was in his voice.
Yang Bao's giggle turned into full laughter, a loud, joyful sound echoing in the quiet night. "Ha... ha... ha... ha... Senior Brother, we've known each other for four months. This is our longest conversation! Can you believe it?!" He looked at Guozhao Zhiqiang, a playful honesty in his eyes. "Senior Brother, I always thought you didn't like me because of my disability. I thought you avoided me."
"No, Ah Bao," Guozhao Zhiqiang replied, his voice soft, a rare vulnerability. "I just don't talk much in general. I thought you didn't want to talk to me because of my appearance. Also, I'm not a talkative person. It's just my nature."
"I can see now," Yang Bao said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "if you were a talkative person, you wouldn't end up in this situation. You'd talk your way out of it!" He looked at Guozhao Zhiqiang again. "The Third Master said that this is punishment, and it also teaches you not to stick your nose into other people's problems, to let them fight their own battles."
"Really?" Guozhao Zhiqiang murmured, a hint of curiosity, a rare questioning.
"Senior Brother, thank you," Yang Bao said, his voice earnest, filled with profound gratitude. "I may not have seen what you did today, but I feel it. The Third Master is right; I will never improve myself if I keep letting others help me. Therefore, from now on, I will work hard. I will push myself."
Guozhao Zhiqiang looked at him, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips, a warmth in his eyes. "Let's train together, Ah Bao, and get better together. We'll push each other."
Yang Bao's smile broadened, a profound sense of camaraderie. "Good, Senior Brother, let's train together. We'll become the strongest hunters in Guozhao Sector."
Standing not far from the two young men, observing from the shadows, were Guo Baiyu, Zhao Renshu, and Fang Yaoting, their faces etched with quiet satisfaction.
"Tsk..." Zhao Renshu chuckled, a fond exasperation in his voice. "That stupid kid talks more with Ah Bao than with us, his masters! He's finally opening up."
"Their age isn't much different," Fang Yaoting remarked, "maybe that's why they have more to say to each other. They're peers."
Guo Baiyu looked at the two young people, a quiet satisfaction on his face, a sense of accomplishment. "It seems that Zhiqiang has found his best friend, Renshu. A true confidant."
Zhao Renshu's smile widened. "This kid is really good, Baiyu. He's a good influence on Zhiqiang." He turned to Fang Yaoting. "Yaoting, you didn't discipline that kid too hard, did you? He seems to have taken it well."
Fang Yaoting looked at Zhao Renshu, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I lectured him just enough, Renshu. Just enough to make him understand."
"Yaoting, let's make a bet," Zhao Renshu proposed, a mischievous glint in his eye, a new game.
"What are you betting on, Renshu?" Fang Yaoting asked, intrigued, a competitive spark.
"We bet on who will beat whom after the training," Zhao Renshu declared. He looked at Guo Baiyu. "Baiyu, you're the judge. You'll ensure fairness."
"You and I both know that Zhiqiang will have more advantages than Ah Bao," Fang Yaoting pointed out, a practical observation. "He is a celestial being, after all."
"I'm not betting on magic spells, Yaoting," Zhao Renshu quickly retorted. "Since they want to learn from you first, let's see who is the better swordsman. Pure skill."
"What's the reward, Renshu?" Fang Yaoting asked, his interest piqued.
"The reward won't be given to you, Yaoting," Zhao Renshu said, "but to the winner. It's for them to earn."
"What is the reward?" Fang Yaoting pressed, his curiosity growing.
"My master's old sword and your Dragon Sword," Zhao Renshu revealed, a knowing smirk on his face, the stakes suddenly very high.
Fang Yaoting's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You want my Dragon Sword, Renshu? That's a bold bet."
"If the person I bet on wins, your Dragon Sword belongs to him. If the person you choose wins, my master's old sword belongs to him. What do you think, Yaoting?" Zhao Renshu winked at Fang Yaoting, a challenge in his eyes.
Guo Baiyu looked at Zhao Renshu, a note of disbelief in his voice. "You really intend to bet on Master Zhao's Morality Sword, Renshu? That's a sacred artifact."
"Only the best can be worthy of my master's Morality Sword," Zhao Renshu stated, a rare seriousness in his tone, his gaze firm.
Guo Baiyu looked at Zhao Renshu, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. "What if Ah Bao wins, but the Morality Sword won't accept him as its owner, Renshu? It's a sentient weapon."
Zhao Renshu scratched his chin with his left thumb, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "I haven't thought about it that much yet, Baiyu. I'll figure it out."
"I guess you would say that," Guo Baiyu deadpanned, a dry amusement.
Fang Yaoting chuckled softly, a genuine sound, accepting the terms. "I'll give him the Dragon Sword." He looked at Zhao Renshu. "Which one would you choose, Renshu?"
"You go first, Yaoting," Zhao Renshu replied, enjoying the anticipation.
"I choose Ah Bao," Fang Yaoting declared, his voice firm, a vote of confidence.
Yang Bao, standing under the full moon with Guozhao Zhiqiang, looked up at the serene night sky, then at his senior brother. He smiled, a competitive spark in his eyes. "Senior Brother, I'll beat you if we ever duel. Just you wait."
Guozhao Zhiqiang scoffed, a rare display of playful arrogance, a smirk on his lips. "I'll wait, Ah Bao. Just because you are my junior, I will not go easy on you. Don't get ahead of yourself."
Yang Bao burst into laughter, a loud, joyful sound echoing in the quiet night. "Ha... ha... ha... ha... because you are younger than me, Senior Brother, I will! I'll show you!"
"Very well," Guozhao Zhiqiang retorted, a challenge in his voice, his eyes twinkling. "Let's see who beats whom in the end. The challenge is accepted."
Yang Bao smiled and shook his head, a silent promise. "We'll wait and see, Senior Brother. We'll see."
The two brothers continued their playful quarrel over who would win, their voices echoing softly as they endured their horse stance under the watchful glow of the full moon, a new bond forged in friendly rivalry and shared hardship.