After class, the Dharma Elder strolled slowly along the stone path outside the Dharma Hall, trailed by several core disciples. He stroked his beard and sighed, "Tianshu's talent is the pride of our Lingxiao Sect branch. His family believes in the way of forgetting emotions, and from a young age, he's cultivated by renunciation of all emotions. It's precisely because of this that he was able to reach the ninth level of Qi training in just two years. It's truly remarkable."
Shen Tianshu stood aside, his expression stern, his white robe swaying in the wind. The sharp sword at his waist exuded a chilling chill. He bowed slightly, his tone calm and humble, "Elder, thank you for your praise. I'm simply fulfilling my duty. Cultivation is like sailing against the current; if you don't advance, you retreat. I simply did what I was supposed to do."
The Dharma Elder nodded with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "Well said! Your family's Way of Forgetting Emotions is truly a model of orthodox immortal cultivation. It's focused, pure, and uninterrupted by worldly distractions. If all the disciples in the sect could be as diligent as you, the Lingxiao Sect would have already reached a new level."
The disciples nearby nodded in agreement: "The elder is right. Senior Brother Shen Tianshu is not only incredibly talented, but his swordsmanship is also impeccable. Who dares to compete with him?"
"Forget about competing. I wouldn't even dare touch his family's skills," someone whispered, a hint of awe in their tone. "I heard that if the Way of Forgetfulness is not practiced properly, a person will completely lose their humanity and become a puppet who only knows how to practice."
A disciple immediately retorted, "That's the result of insufficient cultivation! How could a genius like Senior Brother Tianshu have such a problem? His talent and willpower far surpass those of ordinary people!"
Shen Tianshu simply smiled faintly, saying nothing more. His gaze was deep and cold, revealing a sharp, almost ruthless aura. He had been raised by his family from a young age to shun emotion and dedicate himself entirely to cultivation. In his view, cultivating the immortal realm was a lonely climb, and emotions were useless shackles. Only by completely shedding them could one pursue the pinnacle of immortality.
Just as the disciples were marveling at him, Shen Tianshu's gaze suddenly strayed off into the distance, resting on a lone figure walking away. The figure was carrying a heavy pile of basic theory books, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his steps seemed uneasy, as if he was trying to avoid the world's gaze at any moment.
The corners of Shen Tianshu's mouth slightly raised, and he said coldly: "That Xiang Fan?"
The surrounding disciples also looked over, and one sneered, "Brother Shen, is this guy considered a disciple? He just muddles through with those basic sword techniques all day long. He's a complete waste of the sect's resources."
Shen Tianshu retracted his gaze, his tone filled with disdain: "Idling away his time? No, he's not idle. He's obsessed with some meaningless things - like mechas and technology."
Several disciples were stunned for a moment, and then someone whispered, "Mecha and technology... not really? Isn't it said that mecha control is also an auxiliary means of cultivation?"
Shen Tianshu interrupted him coldly: "Auxiliary means? What do you think cultivation is? Cultivation is about pursuing immortality and overcoming tribulations to become an immortal. And you're fantasizing about using a mere cold metal shell to bear the power of the heavenly tribulation? That's ridiculous!"
His words were like a hammer, piercing the disciples' hearts. The atmosphere instantly became oppressive. Some lowered their heads in silence, some displayed awkward expressions, and some even stepped back slightly, fearing they would be hurt by his words.
Shen Tianshu observed their reactions, a flicker of cold contempt in his eyes. He raised his hand to straighten his sleeves and said calmly, "If a cultivator cannot clearly discern their own path, they will sooner or later be destroyed by the so-called 'trend.' Remember, cultivation is a battle for life against the heavens, not a competition of skill with mortals."
The surroundings were utterly silent, with only the gentle breeze outside the Dharma Hall. The disciples nodded silently. Although they each had their own thoughts, no one dared to contradict the words of this talented senior brother. Shen Tianshu took one last glance, then withdrew his gaze and walked away. His robes blew up with his steps, like a flash of cold steel.
After class, Shen Tianshu stood on the stone steps outside the Dharma Hall, watching the disciples disperse in groups of two or three. His eyes swept over Xiang Fan, who was stumbling with a pile of books. His cold gaze suddenly took on a hint of mockery, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly, as if he was watching a funny show.
"It's ridiculous for an ordinary person to dream of using a mecha to fight against the heavenly calamity." Shen Tianshu shook his head, his tone full of contempt.
Several disciples nearby immediately came over, smiling flatteringly, "Senior Brother Shen is right! Cultivation relies on the strength of the body and soul. Those cold mechas are just tricks for mortals and will never transcend the great Dao."
Shen Tianshu smiled softly, his eyes coldly gazing at Xiang Fan's slightly bent back. His voice was filled with icy sarcasm, "With his talent, I'm afraid he can't even reach the threshold of foundation building." He paused, turned to the disciple beside him and said, "Mortal things are ultimately mortal toys. He's wasting time on these meaningless things. He should focus on cultivation. Otherwise, he won't even be worthy of being a laughing stock."
The disciples immediately echoed, "People like Xiang Fan may be lacking in talent, but they're also ignorant of their own limitations. It's a complete waste of the sect's resources to have them in his hands."
“Instead of wasting energy on such fools, it is better to train a few disciples with real potential.” Shen Tianshu sneered and shook his head, his tone revealing a condescending arrogance.
Xiang Fan, standing not far away, seemed to sense those scorching gazes, and his steps became even more hesitant. His shoulders hunched slightly, and his arms tightly hugged the book in his arms, as if it was the only thing that could give him a sense of security. He looked lonely and funny.
Shen Tianshu didn't look again. He simply turned around, flicked his robe, and walked away, leaving behind a chorus of sneers and fawning responses from his disciples. His back was as straight as a sword, sharp and indifferent in the sunlight, like a symbol of the sect's superiority.
Meanwhile, Xiang Fan, like an insignificant pebble, was kicked into a corner, uncared for. He lowered his head silently, a complex mix of emotions swirling within him, yet he uttered no sound. He'd long been accustomed to the harsh words, but each time, they still made his heart tighten.
The sun shone outside the Dharma Hall. The disciples' gazes followed Shen Tianshu's back, their eyes filled with admiration and respect. In their eyes, Shen Tianshu was the sect's untouchable benchmark, a genius and the direction of cultivation.
Xiang Fan, on the other hand, continued to walk hurriedly, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if avoiding the world's gaze. His footsteps were so light they made almost no sound, and he gradually blended into the depths of the corridor, as if swallowed by the sect's clamor, leaving only his lonely figure and the determination weighing on the book.
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