Wuyi pretended to act as the other kids did; he would fear as they feared, frown as they frowned, and pretend as they pretended. He was careful not to let his secret out. It was here that Wuyi learned sothing new—the art of manipulation in all its glory, even Chao could not teach him this art with this depth.
He could see that in so kids, the hatred was so intense that it fueled a resolve to prove Gao wrong, to withstand his abuse and erge stronger. A single word of reluctant acknowledgnt from Gao felt like a deluge of praise to them, while his constant belittlent should have numbed them but instead made them question their own worth.
This was an epito of manipulation Wuyi had witnessed. Gao played with these kids' emotions; he was molding them to his wishes. In the isolated realm of the tower top, Gao reigned supre. His authority was unchallenged; his word was law. The disciples were both his canvas and his clay, molded by his teachings and marred by his cruelties.
Among them, Li Jun stood as the epito of Gao's ideals, a beacon they were urged to emulate. For Gao, on the other hand, Wuyi was his antithesis, the object of his scorn.
What bothered Gao the most was that none of his criticisms deterred Wuyi; he felt as if his criticism was fueling Wuyi's resolve to excel and prove his worth in Gao's eyes.
The truth was the manipulation of Gao did not work for Wuyi as Wuyi had stopped taking Gao seriously. The more he understood about cultivation—the flow of Qi, the purification of the body, the potential for combat—the more he realized that the true challenge was not against Gao but against himself. He had to confront his own weaknesses, prejudices, and past.
Only then could he hope to ascend the cultivation ladder and prove that he was not just another pebble on the beach, but a gem that could freely move through this world without any trouble.
Wuyi, who pretended to take Gao's feedback positively, frowned every ti when he sensed Gao's thoughts. There was no convincing this man; if Wuyi acted sad and sorrowful in response to his criticism, Gao would think him inadequate, thereby proving his point. Conversely, if Wuyi showed determination to improve, it bothered Gao.
In essence, there was no winning for Wuyi; he could only sigh internally. CiXin was another who bore the brunt of Gao's disdain. Unlike Wuyi, who was rely acting, the other kids were genuinely affected by Gao's manipulation. CiXin had beco Gao's most ardent follower, never uttering a word of dissent after her initial punishnt.
Her loyalty, however, was t with constant rebuke and physical reprimands, far more than any other disciple received. This only steeled her resolve, making her as intolerant of weakness among the disciples as Gao himself.
As winter's chill deepened, the tower top beca a sanctuary of isolation, lit only by the dim glow from the stairwell. Gao had successfully forged them into a unified entity, instilling in them a sense of elitism and privilege.
All the kids, except Wuyi—who was rely pretending—believed themselves to be the chosen ones, destined for greatness on the path of cultivation. Wuyi felt bad for these kids, but that was the extent of his concern. He knew that none of them cared about him; moreover, because of Gao's disdain, they had ford a disdain towards him, and he felt the sa way about them.
The kids who faltered were cast aside, their weaknesses a stain on their collective honor. The kids who survived their world had narrowed to the point where it consisted only of each other and Gao. Unlike the kids, Wuyi's world had narrowed more to cultivation; neither the kids nor Gao mattered to him.
Initially, Wuyi found himself missing Chao and wondering about Boluo. But as ti wore on, such thoughts faded into insignificance. His focus beca laser-sharp, aid solely at cultivation. Mundane activities like eating beca re distractions, pulling him away from his singular goal.
The power was his only escape, and now that he had found a path to power, his cultivation, with the help of statues, progressed rapidly; he had unlocked three vital points in just a few months.
While the other kids were only beginning to sense Qi in the world, Wuyi could feel the energies of the world from the age of five; he had been sensing it since he activated the Statue of Harmony. He believed that all the energies the statues absorbed were so types of Qi.
Ti continued to pass. After six grueling months, only eight disciples remained. It was then that Gao deed them worthy of "real" training and restored a modicum of comfort and dignity to their lives.
The luxuries were minimal—a piece of dried fruit at als, permission to wear shoes, and the allowance for brief conversations at the dining table. Yet, these small concessions felt like monuntal gifts, and the kids were pathetically grateful. But the most transformative mont was yet to co for them.
The most special day was the first ti Gao guided them on how to absorb and move Qi through their ridians.
They were spaced farther apart on the tower top, a natural consequence of their dwindling numbers. He moved from disciple to disciple, pausing before each one.
The air was thick with anticipation as he finally spoke, "Ready yourself. Allow the flow of Qi. Be open to it, but do not indulge in the pleasure of it. The purpose is to form a path through your ridians, not to provide you with fleeting gratification. Be open to it and focus; do not let anything distract you."
Gao moved among them like a shadow, his presence both commanding and unsettling. They stood in a loose formation, their eyes averted, as he had instructed. The only sounds were his footsteps and the occasional gasp from a disciple as he touched them with his Qi. When he reached CiXin, his voice dripped with disdain. "Be open to it, I said. Do not cower like a beaten dog."
Finally, he ca to Wuyi.
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