Chapter 1845: Chapter 1942: Struggling to Survive
"I... my name is Liao Pingāan." The frail young boy with a face covered in blood softly spoke.
The middle-aged man slightly furrowed his brows and said, "You donāt want to be my disciple?"
The boy named Liao Pingāan lowered his head and remained silent. He had never heard of Mo Shouhe and had no idea about the astonishing background of the seemingly ordinary middle-aged man before him.
After all, Liao Pingāan was the lowest disciple at the Meteor Sword Villa, having never seen much of the world, nor knowing the mighty figures under heaven and earth.
For Liao Pingāan, the elders in Meteor Sword Villa were already strong figures in his heart.
Mo Shouhe gave a cold snort and casually lifted the boy up, causing fear to flash in the boyās eyes, uncertain of the manās intentions.
"Whether you want to or not, a disciple chosen by me, Mo Shouhe, has no right to refuse. From now on, you are my disciple." Mo Shouhe said forcefully, with cold eyes fixed on Liao Pingāan.
"Yes!" Liao Pingāan trembled all over, not daring to refuse.
Mo Shouhe flicked his hand, tossing Liao Pingāan to the ground like a discarded object.
"I wonāt help you with anything. If you want revenge, if you want to inflict your pain a hundredfold on those people, you must claw and survive. Even if trampled underfoot, you must live."
"I can teach you skills that reach heaven and earth, but if you truly are a waste, I wonāt care for you. Better for useless things to die sooner."
"If youāre still alive after three months, come and see me again at this mountain."
Ā·Ā·Ā·Ā·
Liao Pingāan was still Liao Pingāan, and the Meteor Sword Villa remained as calm as ever. However, the only unrest was that Liao Pingāan was disfigured.
Originally, no one interacted with Liao Pingāan. Now, with his face completely ruined, making him extremely grotesque, those around treated him like a ghost, isolating him further.
Liao Pingāan became more silent, and the incident where Zhang scarred his face on the mountain peak was totally ignored by the elders at Meteor Sword Villa, as if they had forgotten Liao Pingāan.
However, being disfigured had its perks; those who usually bullied him seemed to find his face too disgusting and thus left him relatively peaceful for two months.
But in the third month, Zhang once again brought people to drag Liao Pingāan onto the peak.
Liao Pingāan did not resist or struggle, allowing them to pull him around like a puppet without consciousness.
"Liao, your face seems healed." Zhang said with a smirk.
Liao Pingāan remained silent, avoiding eye contact, fearing Zhang might see the hatred in his eyes.
Seeing Liao Pingāan silent, Zhang did not hesitate, directly kicking Liao Pingāan to the ground.
This kick was powerful, and with Zhangās cultivation, it was beyond Liao Pingāanās ability to withstand.
Immediately, Liao Pingāan spewed blood and lay trembling on the ground, clearly heavily injured.
Zhang looked coldly at Liao Pingāan from above: "How can our Meteor Sword Villa have a waste like you? If other Sword Tao sects knew we accepted a disciple who canāt even wield a sword, wouldnāt they laugh at us?"
As he spoke, he kicked Liao Pingāan again.
Liao Pingāan grunted, trying to lift his head, but Zhang immediately stomped on it, pinning him to the ground.
No one around intervened; at most, they cast a few pitying glances at Liao Pingāan.
"Liao, perhaps you should leave Meteor Sword Villa. With this ghastly look of yours, you might scare the new disciples." Zhang laughed viciously, face contorted with malice.
The reason he enjoyed bullying Liao Pingāan wasnāt that he particularly hated him, but it gave him an indescribable thrill to see Liao Pingāan suffer.
Besides, he felt that even if Liao Pingāan died, nobody would care, justifying his bullying as resourcefully using up the useless.
Liao Pingāan still said nothing. Leave Meteor Sword Villa? He had thought about it, but leaving meant he couldnāt avenge his parents, so he would rather endure more suffering here.
"Stop staring, treat him as usual, but leave him alive. Otherwise, if he dies, there will be no fun left." Zhang dismissed to the crowd.
Everyone looked at each other, and most ended up punching and kicking Liao Pingāan, comfortably confident since Zhang led the way.
They were used to bullying Liao Pingāan and even found it quite interesting.
When night fell, Zhang left with his group, leaving Liao Pingāan thoroughly battered.
This time, Liao Pingāanās injuries were severe, blood pouring from his mouth, his internal organs wracked with pain.
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His vision started to blur, the beating had never been this grave before, rendering him unable to rise.
"Am I going to die?" Liao Pingāan mumbled to himself, feeling bitterness, hatred, and unwillingness.
Liao Pingāan didnāt want to die with his parents unavenged and grudges unresolved; he refused to die here like this.
His unyielding will to survive kept him conscious, lying there with eyes wide open, even though his vision was blurry and his organs hurt unbearably; he endured with gritted teeth.
As days passed, no one came to check on his survival, perhaps to his peers, whether he lived or died was irrelevant.
Yet, Liao Pingāan did not die; despite being on the verge of death, he clung to life.
When Mo Shouhe appeared before him, Liao Pingāan had been lying there for seven days.
"You didnāt disappoint me." Mo Shouhe said gently, waving a hand to place a Pill into Liao Pingāanās mouth.
Swallowing the Pill, Liao Pingāanās injuries healed instantly, his strength returning at once.
"Disciple greets Master!" Liao Pingāan knelt before Mo Shouhe, his voice firm and resolute.
"From now on, you will be called Liao Can Sheng."
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