The Villain

A cool, heartless immortal master VS her vicious, unworthy eldest disciple The first time I saw her, she stood to the Sect Leader's right. Her indifferent gaze swept over me, and she rejected the Sect Leader's suggestion. Yet I thought that if she smiled, she would surely look beautiful. The second time I saw her, she sat beneath a wisteria tree, plucking the strings of her zither. She let me kneel for seven days and nights before I was finally allowed to call her Master, though she never once answered. The third time, the fourth time... I watched myself fall deeper and deeper, without a single regret, until the day she brought back a new disciple from the foot of the mountain. He was plain-looking and sly, yet somehow always earned her favor. I tried to expose his wicked nature, but never expected to be expelled from the sect outright. That day, she was smiling, and I went mad. If I fall into demonic cultivation, no one will survive. Master, this is the path you chose for me with your own hands. Whether immortal or demon, alive or dead, I will remain as I have always been. *Trying my hand at some melodramatic romance. This is writing practice. Theme: A master raises a disciple.