A laid-back, retired, aloof master x a scheming, green-tea white lotus little fox
*
When Wu Suiyu came down from the mountain, she picked up a little disciple. The whole sect went into a frenzy when she brought him back.
At thirteen, Wu Suiyu had risen to the ranks of the five strongest on the continent. At seventeen, she became the foremost of the three venerable figures of the Heavenly Sword Sect. She was quiet and taciturn, and for more than a decade she had never taken on a single outer disciple.
Cultivators would fight tooth and nail just to sweep the floors on her Kunlun Peak. With the sect's selection coming up, the Heavenly Sword Sect announced that Wu Suiyu would take on a direct disciple this year.
The "little geniuses" from a hundred immortal sects were eager to try their luck. Who could have guessed that Wu Suiyu would come down the mountain and return with some little beggar from who-knows-where, taking the spot?
The Heavenly Sword Venerable from her sect followed behind Wu Suiyu, muttering incessantly. "You won't even glance at the promising talents from a hundred immortal sects, but you pick up a beggar on the road and treasure him? I don't understand you. I really don't understand you."
Wu Suiyu said nothing. What did that old geezer know? This was a top-grade, nine-tailed fire fox cub with exquisite features. First come, first served.
Wu Suiyu named him Quesheng, taught him swordsmanship, and bestowed the Lotus Flame upon him. She thought it would be a story about a pitiful child growing up, but somehow, as she raised him, things took a turn.
The umpteenth time her little disciple blocked her path to confess, Wu Suiyu sighed, her expression compassionate. "I cultivate the Dao of the Common People. I cannot save the myriad of suffering in this world."
Pointing to his palm, she said slowly, "Our fate is shallow. Even if you persist, nothing will come of it."
Just as Wu Suiyu turned away, Quesheng drew Wu Suiyu's Moon-Calling Sword and carved a deep gash into his palm. The blood made the Moon-Calling Sword ring out, and Wu Suiyu stared blankly at the stubborn look on Quesheng's face.
"If you aren't in my fate, then I'll carve you into it." Quesheng gazed at her stubbornly, blood spattering his face.
Wu Suiyu's eyes were calm and still. "If you insist, then whatever pain you suffer is your own fault."
But Quesheng fell to his knees and took hold of the hem of her sleeve, looking as disheveled as he had in the ruins all those years ago.
"If I am fortunate enough to win my master's pity, no matter how much it hurts..." His dewy eyes shone as he looked at her, seeming so pitiful.
"Your disciple will gladly bear it."
*
Everyone said Quesheng had gone mad. Unable to win his master's love, he had killed her. The Nine-Tailed Fox Clan refused to acknowledge him, and the cultivators hunted him down. Covered in wounds, Quesheng returned to Kunlun Peak, where Wu Suiyu, who should have been dead, was leisurely fishing.
Quesheng turned back into his true form and lay across her lap, licking her fingertips.
"Master, did you love me a little today?"
"Foolish disciple." Wu Suiyu gently hooked a finger under his chin and lowered her eyes, suddenly smiling faintly. "If your master had never fallen for you, you would never have been able to draw the Moon-Calling Sword and renew the bond between us."
VB: Zhuo Zhiyu, Fishing Version
Theme: The world is full of noise and trouble. Just be yourself
