337: Chapter 337 Coward

Previously, she had only been preoccupied with fantasies of the grandeur of being invincible after learning Spells—flipping a bully's carriage with a wave of her hand, shattering a bandit's weapons with a stomp of her foot—but she had never deeply considered that more fatal question:

"After becoming a powerhouse, what should I do?"

"Hmm... First of all, absolutely not like Zhao Mang and his gang of lackeys!"

Thinking of Zhao Mang's arrogant, domineering face that treated human life like dirt, she clenched her small fists so tightly her knuckles turned white, her joints popping.

"Relying on a bit of power to run rampant, robbing things, bullying the weak—what difference is there between such a powerhouse and bandits or bullies? I don't want to be that kind of person!"

Chu Changsheng nodded slightly, his gaze holding a hint of encouragement, signaling her to continue.

"Then..."

Luo Xiaojiu's gaze suddenly sharpened, her voice clear as a blade drawn from its sheath, carrying the unique stubbornness and edge of a youth, "If anyone dares to bully me, or bully the people I care about—I will fight back! I will never be a coward! I will not fear trouble! Just like Revered Master did today, whoever dares to provoke us will have to pay the price!"

Speaking of this, she suddenly remembered Revered Master's earlier follow-up question. Her tone faltered slightly, her brows furrowed tighter, and her small face was filled with inner conflict:

"However... I can't just hit everyone I see, right? It seems... I also can't be like the villains in storybooks, who use unscrupulous means to get stronger, committing atrocities, not even sparing their own fellow Disciples... What's the point of being the best in the world if you're that kind of person?"

The more she spoke, the more confused she became, as if her mind had been stuffed with a tangled mess of yarn; there were too many thoughts to sort through, and she couldn't make sense of any of them.

In the end, she simply raised her head and looked at Chu Changsheng with eager, pleading eyes, like a lost little beast, her eyes filled with helplessness:

"Revered Master, I don't know specifically what I should do... Anyway, I feel that power should be used to protect the people who should be protected and to do the things that should be done; it cannot be used to do evil. Hmm... I guess that's about it?"

Chu Changsheng listened quietly, his gaze falling on her small face filled with seriousness. Deep in his eyes, a barely perceptible flash of approval passed by—as fast as a shooting star, yet startlingly bright.

This girl has a sincere Heart-Nature.

Although she possesses the cunning and playfulness of the streets, she clearly distinguishes between good and evil.

The pure kindness in her bones is countless times more precious than those well-behaved Disciples of prestigious families raised in deep boudoirs.

"Protect the people who should be protected, and do the things that should be done."

Chu Changsheng repeated slowly, his tone still even, yet every word was like warm jade, heavily striking into Luo Xiaojiu's heart, creating layers of ripples, "Well said. But—where is the boundary between 'should' and 'should not'? Who decides it?"

He paused, his gaze as deep as an ancient well, bottomless and silent.

"If your power cannot protect those you wish to protect, and might even bring about greater disaster, implicating the people you care about—what then?"

"If what you see as 'should be done' is seen by others as 'should not', and you are even accused and besieged by the world—how would you choose?"

A series of questions struck Luo Xiaojiu's heart like a volley of cannon fire.

She was instantly dumbfounded, her small mouth agape, but she couldn't utter a single word. Her small face slowly wrinkled like a bun, her eyes filled with confusion.

She understood every word Revered Master said—but why was it so difficult when put together?

"This... this..."

She stammered, racking her brains, but only felt her mind becoming more chaotic.

The heroic ambition she had just felt seemed to have been poked with countless holes by these questions, and it was deflating bit by bit.

She suddenly realized—Cultivating didn't seem as simple as just learning Spells and becoming powerful.

Nor was it that once you learned Spells, you could settle scores freely and live carefree.

Chu Changsheng watched his Disciple's confused and dejected appearance, his tone softening slightly.

He raised his hand and gently patted her head. The warmth of his palm came through her hair, carrying a rare gentleness:

"These questions do not need to be answered right now. They will accompany you throughout your entire journey of Cultivation, perhaps even your whole life. But you need to understand one thing now—"

He leaned down slightly, his gaze clear as a cold pool reflecting starlight, crashing directly into Luo Xiaojiu's eyes, every word clear and solemn:

"Cultivating is about cultivating power, but even more so about Heart-Nature, choices, and bearing responsibility. The stronger the power, the more ties you have, the heavier the responsibility, and the more difficult the choices you will face."

"It is by no means as you imagine, where learning a few Spells allows you to settle scores freely and be carefree and invincible in the world."

"On this path, there may be boundless scenery and the admiration of the masses—but there is more of the loneliness that ordinary people cannot endure, the tempering of a thousand hammers, and even the forced trade-offs and sacrifices."

Luo Xiaojiu listened blankly.

These words were like heavy little stones, striking hard into her heart, which had previously only held excitement and fantasies, sending ripples spreading out, lingering for a long time.

She seemed to vaguely touch the heavier, more complex core behind the word "Cultivate"—it was no longer the bizarre and carefree, unrestrained life written in storybooks.

"Revered Master..."

Her voice became softer, carrying uncertainty and a hint of imperceptible fear, like a startled little bird, "Then... is Cultivating very bitter and difficult?"

"Bitterness and joy are known to oneself; difficulty and ease are in the heart," Chu Changsheng said calmly. "Some see it as a ladder to the heavens and embrace it willingly; others fear its dangers and give up halfway."

He paused, his gaze seeming to pierce through her eyes, looking directly at the most real desires and fears in her heart, his voice carrying an unquestionable solemnity:

"Revered Master asks you—even if you know the path ahead may not be smooth, that it may be full of tempering and choices you cannot yet imagine, and that one day it may even force you into a situation ten thousand times more difficult than today's 'return to the city or leave', forcing you to make difficult choices between morality and loyalty, between life and death, and between honor and disgrace—do you still wish to Cultivate?"

Twilight gathered, and the mountain wind of Laoya Slope began to rise, whistling as it swept through the vegetation, stirring up fine withered leaves and blowing the hems of the Revered Master and Disciple's robes.

The moon-white robe and light pink dress fluttered gently in the evening wind, one cold and one warm, forming a quiet silhouette in the vast twilight.

In the distance, Linyuan City's lights had begun to flicker, dim yellow spots of light twinkling in the twilight like dormant eyes, quietly watching this stretch of mountain wilderness.

Luo Xiaojiu stood where she was, her lips pressed tightly together. The playfulness and joy on her face had long since completely vanished.

She looked up, gazing into Revered Master's calm, waveless, yet unfathomable eyes.

She looked down at her own palms—that hand was still stained with the dust from picking up gold and silver, and there were faint sweat marks on her fingertips from when she had clenched them in nervousness.

Did she want to?

She remembered the days of wandering the streets—the countless cold looks and bullying, the biting cold of winter months huddled in the corner of a dilapidated temple, gnawing on cold, hard buns.

She remembered the heart-shaking shock and longing that welled up in her heart when she first saw a Cultivator stepping on a sword and soaring into the clouds.

She remembered the obsession deep in her bones for that kind of power to "fly through the sky and escape the earth, controlling one's own destiny."

She also remembered the heavy and unfamiliar possibilities Revered Master had just described—loneliness, tempering, trade-offs, sacrifices...

Time seemed to be stretched long, yet it also felt like a mere flick of a finger.

The mountain wind, carrying the scent of vegetation and soil, brushed against her cheeks and lifted the stray hair on her forehead.

Luo Xiaojiu suddenly raised her head.

The confusion and anxiety in her eyes were instantly replaced by the determination of a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger—childish, yet exceptionally clear, like a small flame suddenly ignited in the darkness, flickering, yet burning hot and shining dazzlingly.

"I do!"

Her clear voice suddenly pierced the twilight, carrying the desperate resolve of burning one's bridges.

Luo Xiaojiu tilted her young face up, her gaze burning like fire, staring at the transcendent figure in white before her, every word firm and resolute:

"Revered Master, I want to Cultivate! Even if there are a thousand hardships and ten thousand difficulties, even if the path ahead is a mountain of blades and a sea of fire, or a bottomless abyss... this Disciple is willing to try it all!"

She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white as porcelain, her chest heaving violently from rapid breathing, her thin shoulders and back tensed like a fully drawn bow—but the flame in her eyes burned fiercely, refusing to be extinguished in the slightest.

"I don't want to be a coward for the rest of my life, someone who can only shrink behind others when encountering a little wind and rain, surviving by luck! I want—"

"I want to grasp my own destiny with my own hands! At least have the ability to determine the path under my own feet! Even if that path is overgrown with thorns and difficult to walk—I will still walk it!"

As her voice fell, twilight gathered, and all was silent.

Only the rustling of fallen leaves outside the window could be clearly heard.

Luo Xiaojiu held her breath and looked up into Chu Changsheng's eyes.

He looked down at her, his ink-colored pupils bottomless, as if hiding the loneliness and vastness of the ancient wilderness, waveless and calm, making it impossible for anyone to guess what he was thinking.

Her heart suddenly beat like a drum, hitting her chest, almost ready to burst out.

In those bright almond-shaped eyes, there was scorching expectation mixed in, hidden anxiety, and even more, a stubbornness of staking everything—she was like someone waiting for a final judgment regarding her life. If she succeeded, she would step onto the path of immortality; if she failed, she would forever be an ant in the mortal world.

Time ground on, second by second.

It was so long that Luo Xiaojiu's fingertips went cold, and she almost thought this request would sink into the sea without a trace—

On Chu Changsheng's face, which was as still as a cold pool and seemed to have congealed with eternal frost, a faint smile suddenly and slowly bloomed.

The smile was extremely light, light as the ripples caused by a spring breeze brushing over a cold pool, ready to dissipate in an instant—yet it was truly soul-shaking.

It was like a ray of warm sun piercing through the clouds, just barely dispelling the last trace of indifference accumulated over the years between his brows, allowing a touch of human warmth to finally ripple in those eyes that had been silent for who knows how many spring and autumns, shattering the eternal coldness that filled them.

"Good."

A single word, light as a feather, spilled from his lips.

Falling into Luo Xiaojiu's ears, it was no less than a thunderclap, making her eardrums buzz and causing the blood in her whole body to boil at that moment.