CHAPTER 282: CHAPTER 282: CONVERSATION BETWEEN MASTER AND DISCIPLE

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"Haha... just a moment of impulse, and you tried to kill your own master?"

Yao Lao tilted his head back, blinking hard as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. But in the end, he couldn’t suppress it—two clear streams of tears slid down his aged, translucent cheeks.

His voice was full of sorrow. "I carried you out of the ruins while you were still wrapped in swaddling clothes. I raised you, taught you how to cultivate, how to refine pills, treated you like my own son... and all it took was a moment of ’impulse’ for you to conspire with outsiders to kill me? Hahaha—!"

The old and desolate laughter echoed across the cliff side, carried away slowly by the gentle night breeze.

"Mas—" Xiao Yan opened his mouth, about to speak, but Wei Yang stopped him with just a look.

Seeing this, Xiao Yan exhaled softly and stayed silent.

"Master, Master! I know I was wrong! Feng’er truly knows he was wrong!" Han Feng remained prostrate on the ground, his body trembling as he looked up at Yao Lao, sobbing and pleading. "Master, please forgive me just this once... Feng’er promises to devote himself to honoring you from now on. Master... wu wu..."

"Forgive you?" Yao Lao shook his head. "I’ve already said—from the moment you raised your hand to kill me, I, Yao Chen, no longer acknowledged you as my disciple. I have no need for a traitor who forgets gratitude and loyalty..."

As he spoke, Yao Lao let out a long sigh toward the sky. "It’s my fault. All my fault. I never properly taught you how to be a decent person. I spoiled you, indulged you, always gave you the best of everything, and in doing so... I neglected to shape your heart."

"To raise but not teach—that is my failure. I brought this upon myself. I reaped what I sowed. This is karma. I blame no one but myself. No one else!"

"Master, I truly know I was wrong. Wu wu... Feng’er really regrets it. After this harsh lesson, I will surely change my ways!"

Han Feng wept uncontrollably, banging his head on the ground again and again as he cried out, "Ever since you were gone, not a single day has passed without regret in my heart... Every day was filled with remorse, deep remorse... wu wu..."

Wei Yang and Xiao Yan stood silently, coldly watching it all without a word.

A long while passed.

Yao Lao finally calmed down. He let out a sigh, turned away with his hands clasped behind his back, and said faintly, "Get up. The ties of master and disciple between us are severed. From now on, all grudges are ended."

"All... ended?" Han Feng looked up, stunned. His face was full of disbelief as he stared at Yao Lao’s back in a daze.

Clearly, deep down, he couldn’t accept that the person who had raised him—who had been with him since childhood—could now be so utterly heartless.

He had thought that if he sincerely admitted his mistake and begged for forgiveness, Yao Lao would soften, just like in the past when he made mistakes as a child.

But he never expected—

"Master..." Han Feng straightened his upper body, kneeling forward several steps, drawing closer as he pleaded with an earnest expression, "Master... Master..."

Yao Lao didn’t even turn around. He simply waved his hand and coldly interrupted, "Don’t call me that again. From this moment on, you and I have no ties at all!"

"Y-You’re really going to be this heartless?" Han Feng knelt there, face turning gray with disbelief, staring at Yao Lao. "You... You raised me with your own hands! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

"...Sigh." Yao Lao let out a deep breath and said nothing more, only shaking his head.

Seeing this, Han Feng’s face slowly darkened with anger.

A fire of rage began to burn uncontrollably in his heart.

Han Feng was, without doubt, a selfish man.

In his eyes, he could betray others, hurt them, even kill them—but others had no right to treat him the same way. He couldn’t accept being cast aside so coldly.

So now, he was furious.

He felt... betrayed.

"Is it because of them?!" Han Feng suddenly shot to his feet, pointing furiously at Xiao Yan and Wei Yang. He shouted at Yao Lao, "Is it because of them?!"

"Heh." Xiao Yan let out a cold laugh.

Wei Yang raised a brow. This Han Feng actually dared to question Yao Lao so righteously?

Yao Lao slowly turned back around. The disappointment in his eyes was no longer hidden.

He stared blankly at Han Feng and shook his head, his voice now as cold as ice, "You’re questioning me? What right do you have to question me? Who I choose to take as a disciple—what does that have to do with you?"

"Right? What right?! Hahaha..." Han Feng suddenly let out a crazed laugh, his expression becoming manic. "Hahahaha—!!"

Wei Yang and Xiao Yan exchanged glances, both frowning slightly.

If it weren’t for Yao Lao’s presence, they would’ve long since killed this man without saying another word—where would they find the patience to entertain such nonsense?

"Hahahaha! ’What does it have to do with me?’ Good one!" Han Feng glared at Yao Lao and shouted, "If you didn’t have new favorites, would you really be this heartless to your old disciple?!"

"Heartless? You’re saying I’m heartless?" Yao Lao stared wide-eyed at Han Feng, barely able to believe what he was hearing.

"Yes! Heartless! Isn’t it true?!" Han Feng roared. "If not for those two being here, would you treat me so coldly? It’s just because you’ve found newer, better disciples that you no longer see me as worthy. You’re cutting ties with me because you think I’m no longer useful—am I wrong?!"

"You... you—!" Yao Lao pointed at Han Feng, trembling all over with fury. His voice thundered with rage: "You ungrateful bastard! Shameless! Selfish to the core! If you hadn’t raised your hand against me back then, would I have ended up like this?!"

"Do you have any idea what I’ve been through all these years?!"

"Do you know that the Hall of Souls has never stopped hunting me down all this time? Don’t tell me you weren’t involved in that, too!"

"I only have this one last wisp of soul left, clinging desperately to survival, hiding in the shadows, unable to show myself. Do you know how hard I’ve fought to restore myself, just to live again?!"

"If it weren’t for those two... I would have been long gone—soul shattered, gone forever! You think I don’t have the right to take on new disciples? Who else could I depend on—you?!"

"If it had been you who found me in that condition, do you really think you would’ve spared me?! Huh?!"

"And all this—every last bit of it—you brought it on yourself!"

"And you still dare to argue?!" Yao Lao roared.

But Han Feng, unwilling to back down, snapped back, "None of this would’ve happened if you had given me Flame Mantra! You envied my talent and were afraid I’d surpass you one day—that’s why you refused to pass it on! That’s why I had no choice but to kill you!"

"I was your only disciple! The one you raised with your own hands! I treated you like a father—I was your only successor! But how did you treat me in return? You were jealous of my talent, constantly guarded against me, terrified I’d surpass you one day!"

"That Flame Mantra... you neither cultivated it nor gave it to me! What were you holding onto it for?! Isn’t it obvious? You were scared of me!"

"Don’t tell me it was ’for my own good.’ Don’t say I wasn’t ready. That was just your excuse!"

"And you still dare to say you gave me the best of everything?!" Han Feng howled in fury.

"You... you... you—!" Yao Lao’s whole body was shaking. His chest rose and fell violently as he pointed at Han Feng, speechless with rage.

"What’s the matter, old man? Guilty conscience? Afraid because I said the truth?" Han Feng sneered.

"You... so this is how you really see me..." Yao Lao finally squeezed out a sentence after struggling to hold back the crushing emotions in his chest.

He truly couldn’t believe it.

This disciple, whom he raised from infancy, whom he treated like his own son, actually saw him in such a vile, distorted way.

"Hmph. Did I say anything wrong?" Han Feng snorted coldly.

"So this is why you killed me?" Yao Lao asked.

"That’s right!" Han Feng nodded. "You knew I was secretly cultivating the incomplete Flame Mantra, but still you refused to teach me the complete version. No matter how much I begged, you never relented. So I had no choice but to kill you!"

"Such a powerful technique, one that can evolve infinitely—yet you didn’t dare cultivate it yourself, nor did you let me cultivate it. After I tasted its power, I had no other choice but to take it by force!"

"You... You beast! You ungrateful beast!" Yao Lao’s face turned ashen, his voice trembling with fury. "Jealous of you? Why would I ever be jealous of you?! The Flame Mantra... do you know the risks of cultivating it?! A thousand dangers, a path of near death at every step!"

"With your temperament, do you really think you could succeed in cultivating it?"

"Of course I know how dangerous it is to devour Heavenly Flames," Han Feng retorted, lifting his chin. "But why wouldn’t I succeed? You know my talent better than anyone. If I hadn’t been using only a fragment of Flame Mantra, I would’ve reached peak Dou Zong by now!"

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