The thing Uncle Nine regretted most in his life was taking on three apprentices.
Qiusheng was too reckless, Wencai was too dim, and Chen Zi'an was... just completely ridiculous!
Three months into his training, while everyone else was still learning to draw talismans, he was already working out an improved version of the Palm Thunder technique.
Six months in, while everyone else had only just reached the threshold of Refining Qi and Transforming Spirit, he could already kill a red-robed vengeful ghost on his own.
A year in, the head of Maoshan came down the mountain in person and asked Uncle Nine, pointing at Chen Zi'an, “Could we borrow your apprentice for a few days at headquarters?”
Uncle Nine replied without expression, “No.”
Then came the day the Netherworld Cult's army laid siege, a thousand-year-old Ghost King was about to break free, and the Well of Guixu threatened to swallow the heavens and earth.
Everyone was in despair.
Chen Zi'an quietly took out the Eight Extremes Suppression Relic.
“Master, this time, let me protect you.”
