Vol. 1 - Chapter 189 - Mo Si

Within the clan grounds, a man in a long-sleeved green robe walked beside Chen Tianquan, making his way toward the academy.

Mo Si’s expression remained calm as he looked over the modest, somewhat shabby building, though his gaze carried a subtle depth. He hadn’t come here entirely of his own will, but it seemed the Chen family was making a genuine effort.

In that case, perhaps staying here for a while wouldn’t be so bad. He didn’t have much else to occupy his time. Teaching others—if done right—could even be enjoyable.

Before they reached the door, however, Chen Tianquan quickly pulled him aside and, with a polite smile, said,

“Master Mo, our Chen family has always been rather secluded. These books were only recently purchased, and many of our people may have misunderstood their content. I hope you’ll be forgiving and won’t take offense.”

Mo Si frowned slightly, puzzled. Misunderstanding the material? Wasn’t that normal? If everyone understood the books properly, why would they need him? Could this be a veiled warning? Was he being told not to pass on the wrong kind of knowledge?

Keeping his expression steady, though now faintly displeased, he replied, “Rest assured, my lord. Since I, Mo Si, have agreed to come, I will carry out my duties with diligence and care.”

Seeing that Master Mo had likely misunderstood him, Chen Tianquan looked momentarily distressed. In the end, he decided to stay just outside the academy and listen in, partly to verify his own understanding of the material.

Inside, a group of young students was already seated and quietly waiting. This time, the clan had brought in quite a few instructors, both scholars and martial artists.

To test their qualifications, the students were split into two groups. One group would learn from the martial instructors, the other from the scholars. After a few days, the clan would make their final selection.

Mo Si stepped up to the lectern and casually picked up a book from the desk. Upon seeing the familiar title, he gave a small nod of approval. The Analects—a classic text widely used to educate members of major clans. It contained profound insights and ideas that most ordinary people couldn’t easily grasp. As a teaching material, it was ideal. Mo Si had read it many times and was more than familiar with its content.

To assess the students’ current level, however, he set the book aside and looked over the assembled youths.

“When one’s parents are alive, one should not travel far. If one must travel, there should be a set destination. Who among you can explain what this means?”

Several hands shot up at once.

“Me!”

“I know!”

“Uncle Tianquan explained this to us—I remember it well!”

Seeing the enthusiasm in their eyes, Mo Si raised a brow, surprised. Perhaps he’d underestimated them. Maybe the Chen clan wasn’t as ignorant as Tianquan had claimed.

Outside the classroom, Chen Tianquan was watching nervously, muttering to himself, “That should be close to how I explained it... right?”

“You,” Mo Si said, pointing to one of the boys.

The child stood up excitedly. “When your parents are in my hands, don’t even think about running. I have ways to find you! This line teaches us that we must never expose our weaknesses to others—and we must protect our family!”

Mo Si, who had been listening with his eyes closed, snapped his eyes open. His face froze.

He had no talent for martial arts and had spent years immersed in literature and philosophy. But in all his years of study, this was the first time he’d heard such an... interpretation.

The words rattled around in his mind, shaking something loose. He turned to glance at the doorway, where Chen Tianquan was smiling and nodding, utterly pleased.

Suddenly, Mo Si understood.

A misunderstanding, indeed. But wasn’t this... a bit too much?

And yet, as he chewed on the idea, he had to admit—there was a kind of twisted logic to it.

He shook his head quickly, brushing aside the errant thought. No. Everything he had studied wouldn’t allow such a warped understanding to stand.

Still, when he looked again at Chen Tianquan’s nervous expression, he softened his tone and said, “Very imaginative. But actually, this phrase has another meaning. Let me explain. When one’s parents are alive, one should not stray far from home. If one must travel, it should be to a clear and purposeful place.”

After his explanation, many of the youths looked thoughtful.

“I still think Uncle Tianquan’s version makes more sense,” someone mumbled.

“But Master Mo’s version sounds logical too…”

“So if my parents are gone, does that mean I can travel anywhere now?” asked Chen Qinghe with a completely serious expression.

Mo Si opened his mouth—then closed it. Speechless.

He suddenly realized that teaching might not be quite as easy as he’d imagined.

…

Elsewhere in the clan:

“When tempering the body,” Ma Heng lectured, “one should begin with the limbs. They’re the easiest to train and will help you become familiar with the process. That way, tempering the internal organs will go more smoothly…

“Remain focused during body tempering. Let no distractions shake you. That’s how you accelerate your progress. Those with abundant qi and blood, firm mental will, or unique physiques will be able to temper their bodies more efficiently…”

After finishing the class, Ma Heng headed out toward the clan’s outer gates, intending to return home. This time, there was a slight lift to his gait and a glimmer of confidence on his face.

Though he was only at the early stage of the Blood Coagulation Realm, he had once run a martial arts school and taught many students. It was only after crossing a major family’s interests in the city that he’d been forced to shut down.

Returning to his old trade now brought with it a sense of purpose. Thanks to some fortuitous opportunities, he had spent time in a large clan before and picked up quite a bit.

Teaching others—even at his current level—was well within his ability, and he even knew a thing or two about instructing martial artists of the same cultivation realm.

He didn’t run into any strange clan members on his way out, and the children he had just taught all seemed perfectly normal. The Chen clan had been courteous, even sending him off with a few catties of grain. It gave him peace of mind.

Maybe this really could be a long-term livelihood.

But just as he reached the clan gates, he spotted a small child sitting alone by the entrance, no more than two or three years old.

A rare softness came over Ma Heng’s rugged face. His own child was around that age.

The boy was gazing up at the sky, a helpless look on his face. Ma Heng assumed he’d gotten lost and couldn’t find his way home. Quietly, he approached, stopping a few meters away. He crouched down slowly, offering the warmest smile he could manage as he prepared to ask a question.

But just as he knelt, he heard the child murmur softly:

“Though the stars are small, they cannot hide their brilliance.

The faint light of mortals, when gathered, can ignite a blaze.”

Ma Heng froze.

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