Wandering Swordsman |

Shen Mo stopped and faced the private tutor who had once helped him, a wave of emotion washing over him. "Teacher, it's been a long time," he said softly, his voice filled with respect and gratitude.

The private tutor carefully examined Shen Mo, his eyes filled with both surprise and relief. "Shen Mo, you've grown up," he said with a smile, his voice brimming with the wisdom and warmth of time.

Those few words brought back a flood of memories for Shen Mo. "Yes, sir. Thank you for your help back then." His voice choked with emotion, his eyes gleaming with gratitude. Those days spent listening to the teacher's lectures outside the private school seemed like yesterday; every word and phrase was deeply etched in his heart.

Hearing this, the private tutor's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm so happy to see you like this today." He patted Shen Mo on the shoulder, his face beaming with joy. At that moment, the bond between teacher and student seemed to transcend the river of time, reconnecting them once more.

At this moment, some townspeople passing by recognized Shen Mo and were immediately drawn to him, casting curious glances. Some whispered among themselves, speculating about what Shen Mo had experienced after leaving with the mysterious swordsman. Meanwhile, Shen Mo and the private tutor were engrossed in their conversation, as if everything around them had ceased to exist.

Just then, an elderly woman stepped out from the crowd. Her name was Aunt Wang, and she was a busybody. She pushed through the crowd, took quick little steps, and walked up to Shen Mo. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, and a meaningful smile played on her lips.

She put her hands on her hips, her eyes darting around before fixing her gaze on Shen Mo, her tone full of curiosity: "Oh, isn't this little Shen? Look at him, all dressed up! You've really made something of yourself! Tell Aunt Wang, what have you been doing these past few years?"

Shen Mo smiled slightly, recalling that he was currently in the Central Plains under a false identity. So he tried his best to appear calm and spoke in a seemingly sincere manner, saying a mix of truth and falsehood: "I haven't done anything. I've been staying in the Northern Desert with my 'master' for the past few years. I came back this time to go back to my village to pay respects to my parents."

Upon hearing the words "Northern Desert," Aunt Wang immediately perked up. Her eyes lit up, as if she had already conjured up some unpleasant scene. "Oh dear, the Northern Desert is a terrible place! The sandstorms are so fierce they can blow a person away. I heard they can't even get a sip of hot water there." She shook her head exaggeratedly, then, as if remembering something, she said with great enthusiasm, "But you know, Zhu Pang from our town is doing quite well now! He's a disciple of the Huashan Sect now, and he even introduced my son to become a disciple there too!"

Upon hearing this, the other onlookers immediately chimed in, praising Zhu Pang's current achievements. An old man nodded and said, "Yes, Zhu Pang said he's now an elder's personal disciple, and he even came back to town last month to show off."

Hearing these words, Shen Mo felt a complex mix of emotions. Zhu Pang's identity as a disciple of the Huashan Sect surprised him, but he wasn't overly astonished. He knew everyone had their own path, and since he had already risen from beggar to Heavenly Demon God, it wasn't impossible for Zhu Pang to go from a street urchin to a direct disciple of the Huashan Sect.

"Congratulations are certainly in order for Zhu Pang's achievements," Shen Mo replied politely, but his tone was not particularly enthusiastic. He knew that the path of the martial arts world was not proven by boasting, but by taking one step at a time.

Seeing Shen Mo's lukewarm reaction, Aunt Wang was somewhat unwilling to give up and continued to ask, "By the way, Little Shen, which sect does your master belong to?"

Upon hearing this, Shen Mo recalled that his master, Luo Wangchen, had mentioned that he ran a martial arts school in Mengzhou, so he answered simply, "My master doesn't belong to any sect; he runs a martial arts school in Mengzhou."

"A martial arts school?" Upon hearing this, the surrounding residents looked at Shen Mo with slight disappointment. They had originally thought that this former little beggar had now become a disciple of some major sect, but they didn't expect him to be just a lowly martial arts school apprentice.

A sense of regret welled up in the residents' hearts. After all, in this world of martial arts, a sect affiliation often meant more opportunities and resources. Shen Mo, an orphan who had previously been a beggar in a small town, apprenticed to an obscure martial arts master, had an experience befitting his lack of connections. Although he looked dashing and heroic, compared to someone like Zhu Pang, who entered the Huashan Sect through his father's connections as a bodyguard, he still seemed somewhat less impressive.

"I see." Aunt Wang smiled slightly, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes. "Mengzhou is just a small place, I heard it's not even as big as our town. But..." She paused, a sly glint in her eyes, "Now that you're back, how about I talk to my son and ask him to help introduce you to the Huashan Sect as a menial disciple? Even though you're not a formal disciple, it's better than staying in that little martial arts school, isn't it?"

Hearing this, Shen Mo gave a wry smile. He knew that people like Aunt Wang always gained a strange sense of accomplishment by belittling others, so her good intentions sounded somewhat grating. However, Shen Mo wasn't angry. Instead, he calmly replied, "Thank you for your kindness, Aunt Wang, but I'm already satisfied with learning from my master. Besides, I don't intend to join any major sect."

Upon hearing this, Aunt Wang's face showed a slight embarrassment, but she quickly regained her composure, a forced smile on her lips, and continued to advise, "Little Shen, you can't say that. What's the use of a small martial arts school? It probably wouldn't even meet the requirements to join the Martial Alliance. Take my advice, join a major sect; even as a menial servant, you'll have a bright future. Look at Fatty Zhu; although his father was just a bodyguard, he's doing so well in the Huashan Sect now. Last month when he came back to town, he said he was going to attend some kind of academy that the Martial Alliance is establishing at the end of the year!"

Upon hearing Aunt Wang's words, Shen Mo found her somewhat laughable. With his current martial arts skills, even the combined forces of the nine sect leaders wouldn't be a match for him. However, Shen Mo knew that continuing the conversation with Aunt Wang would be a waste of breath, so he casually replied, "Thank you for your concern, Aunt Wang. I'll consider it."

After speaking, Shen Mo turned to the private tutor and gave a deep farewell bow, his eyes filled with gratitude and respect. "Teacher, it's getting late. I need to return to my village to pay respects to my parents, so I'll take my leave now."

The private tutor looked at the mature, composed, and well-mannered young man before him, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes. "Alright, you may go now." His voice was gentle, yet full of strength.

Shen Mo nodded, bowed deeply to the private tutor again, and then turned to leave. The surrounding residents watched this scene, each with their own feelings. Some understood Shen Mo's refusal of Granny Wang, while others remained immersed in their longing for the great sects.