Ace grabbed a sheet of paper, his hands still slightly unsteady from the aftermath of the system's "reward."
He quickly wrote down the Earth-grade cultivation technique his family had once taught him, the one he had struggled with for years.
Before, it had felt rigid, incomplete—poorly designed, never truly ant for human use. But now, as he stared at the familiar words on the page, sothing shifted.
Flaws—glaring weaknesses he had never noticed before—leaped out at him. The inefficiency in energy circulation, the bottlenecks that would slow progress, the subtle contradictions in breathing techniques—it was all so clear now.
With renewed focus, he dipped his brush in ink and began rewriting.
Line by line, stroke by stroke, he modified it, shaping the technique to fit his needs. He adjusted the energy flow, smoothed out inefficiencies, and infused it with the deeper understanding he had now gained.
The old technique had been like an uncut gem—functional, but rough. Now, he polished it, refined it, turning it into sothing tailored specifically for him.
By the ti he set the brush down, the simple Earth-grade technique had evolved into a Mortal-grade technique.
Ace leaned back, exhaling slowly.
Next , while was experinting with new techniques, testing the limits of his improved knowledge, when a familiar, cheerful voice interrupted him
"Teacher!"
He turned to see Liu i bouncing toward him, her usual bright energy in full force. But this ti, she wasn't alone.
Behind her stood a woman—Liu Hong, i'er's mother. Ace recalled her na from village gossip, from whispered conversations about a widow raising a child many had deed hopeless.
He barely had ti to welco them inside before Liu Hong dropped to her knees.
"Thank you, Teacher," she said, her voice trembling with raw emotion.
Ace froze, startled by the sudden display.
"My i'er… People told to give up on her. To abandon her. But I couldn't. She is my child. She had no father to call her own, and I—I couldn't just abandon her when I am all she had."
Her hands clenched into fists against the wooden floor. Ace could see the years of struggle written in the lines of her face, the exhaustion that had weighed her down for so long.
"They called her stupid. A retard. And the worst part? Her actions only made their insults seem true. No one believed in her, and the more they ridiculed her, the more she withdrew."
Liu Hong choked back a sob, but when she looked up, her eyes shone with sothing new.
"But lately… lately, she's been changing. Ever since you started feeding her those apples, little by little, she's gotten better. She understands things now—really understands. And…" She swallowed hard, as if saying the next words would shatter her.
"She apologized."
Ace blinked.
"She looked at , and she said she was sorry. Sorry for everything. Do you know what that ans? My i'er—she finally had enough clarity, enough intelligence, to recognize what she had done. To feel remorse. To try and make things right."
Tears stread down her face, but she was smiling.
"I never thought I'd hear those words from her. I thought she would always be… stuck. But she's not. She's changing, she's growing, and it's all because of you."
Her voice wavered, but she pressed on.
"I still hate you for what you did before. For hurting my daughter." Her fingers trembled as she wiped her tears away. "But I can't deny what you've done now. You healed her. You gave her a chance that no one else ever did. And for that… I'm grateful. So grateful."
Ace remained silent, staring at the woman before him.
She still hated him. He couldn't bla her. The old Xiao Zhi had done miserable deeds. But hearing gratitude from soone he had once hurt? That was new.
Beside her, Liu i stood quietly, watching everything unfold. There was no confusion in her eyes, no mindless excitent—just silent understanding.
It was a mont of clarity, a quiet kind of miracle.
Ace reached down and gently helped Liu Hong to her feet.
"You're welco," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I regret what I did. And I plan to change."
Ace took a deep breath.
"And," he continued, "I want to take your daughter in as a disciple."
Liu i's eyes widened, her mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise. Liu Hong, however, stiffened.
A teacher and a student—their relationship was bound by duty and obligation. A teacher imparted knowledge as they saw fit, withholding what they wished, and as long as compensation was given, the transaction was complete.
But a master and a disciple? That was an entirely different bond. A master did not simply teach; they nurtured, guided, and molded their disciple as if raising their own child. There would be no reservations, no withheld lessons.
A master would correct, reprimand, and discipline when necessary, but just as surely, they would protect, cherish, and take pride in their disciple's growth.
This also ant she wouldn't be able to et her daughter unless he agreed.
"A disciple?" she repeated cautiously.
"Yes. She has potential," Ace said, keeping his tone calm and serious. "More than people give her credit for. I want to teach her, help her grow even further."
Liu Hong hesitated. She had spent years shielding her daughter from the world's cruelty, from people who only saw i'er as a burden. And now, the man who had once hurt her was offering to be her master?
She looked at her daughter, who was staring up at Ace with an unusual amount of focus. Not blindly following, not just agreeing because she always did—she was really listening.
Liu i clenched her fists.
"Teacher, I want to learn!" she said earnestly. "I want to be strong, like you!"
Ace blinked. Strong like him? That was debatable. But seeing the determination on her face, he knew one thing—she had made up her mind.
Liu Hong exhaled deeply. Then, with a mix of hesitation and hope, she nodded.
"Alright," she said. "I'll trust you with my daughter's future."
"Liu i, perform a kowtow."
For once, she wasn't her usual cheerful, absentminded self. Instead, Liu i's face was serious—determined.
Without hesitation, she knelt, lowering her forehead to the ground in a formal gesture of respect.
Ace watched in silence. He had expected hesitation, a fumble, maybe even a giggle halfway through. But she remained steady.
Her movents were steady, her posture sincere.
She was truly acknowledging him as her master.
The familiar chi of the system echoed in Ace's mind.
[Disciple obtained.]
A new prompt appeared before him.
1/9 – You can have a maximum of only 9 direct disciples. Choose wisely.
His gaze flickered to the next set of information.
1st Disciple: Liu i
Cultivation Talent: Rare
Current Soul Force: 98
Special Physique: None
Ace rubbed his chin.
– Only nine disciples? Not ten, not unlimited. Why? Was there so hidden reason, or was the system simply restricting him?
Liu i had great potential, but her past condition made her an unusual first pick.
Still, he glanced at her—sitting there with wide, expectant eyes, her usual cluelessness replaced by rare focus.
He didn't regret his decision. Not one bit.
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