Chapter 31

"What's the point of this chess game?" Lianchen asked, a deep frown settling on his face. As much as it annoyed him to be referred to as a chess piece, he wasn't naive. This was a cultivation world, after all, where schemers thrived in the shadows, pulling strings to achieve their hidden goals.

"You won't tell me... that would be too easy," Lianchen said, his voice low as his eyes narrowed in thought. "So, you stand equal to the heavens..."

He fell silent, pondering the implications. The three watched him closely, their eyebrows raising in amusement. It was almost comical to them, a mere child attempting to unravel the depths of their grand designs. Yet, there was something about his focus, his intensity, that kept them from dismissing him outright.

"Knowing that cultivators always seek further growth, it's obvious, you want to surpass the heavens," Lianchen said, his voice steady, his gaze sharp. "But how could the heavens simply allow that? If those in this small world aim to cut the sky and ascend to the immortal realm, then those in the immortal realm must surely strive to sever their bonds with the heavens themselves, reaching the tier of power Pangu was said to have achieved."

He looked at them one by one, gauging their reactions. As expected, his words hit their mark. Their shocked expressions betrayed the truth he had unearthed, confirming his suspicions.

"You're close..." the white-haired man said lightly, though his tone carried a hint of surprise. He was genuinely stunned that a mere 6-year-old could come so close to grasping the truth of their grand design.

The disfigured man's eyes narrowed, studying Lianchen carefully. There was something unsettling in the boy's expression, a spark of understanding that he hadn't voiced yet. It was clear Lianchen knew more than he was letting on, and that alone was enough to put the disfigured man on edge.

"This small world of yours," the disfigured man began, his voice calm yet heavy with meaning, "is nothing more than a cage. Above it lies the rest of the lower realm, a vast expanse, yes, but still just another cage. Even the immortal realm, as boundless as it may seem, is no different. It too is a prison, just with more room."

He paused, his gaze sharp and unrelenting as he continued. "To ascend, to gain true immortality... to break free of all these cages and become a god, that is the ultimate goal of any true cultivator."

"Be my chess piece, and let me be yours," the disfigured man said, his voice calm but charged with a strange intensity. "In life, everything and everyone is a chess piece. Family, friends, enemies, every single one plays a role on the board. Some value their pieces more than their own life, while others value themselves above the entire game."

He took a step closer, his gaze piercing as he fixed his eyes on Lianchen. "You're already part of this game, whether you like it or not. So, make the smart move. Use me. Drain every benefit you can from me, and evolve into the one who controls the board. Become the chess player."

"... Can you help me control my power? If the answer is yes, then I might consider being your student. If not... well, I don't fear death." Lianchen's voice was calm, almost casual, yet the weight of his words hung in the air. "A teacher doesn't just get to accept a student. A student also has to accept the teacher. You're clearly an expert in the sword path... but I'm not. So, tell me, what can you honestly teach me?"

The air grew still, the tension palpable. Lianchen caught a glimpse of Lan Mei's expression out of the corner of his eye, and he swore she looked like she was fighting the urge to turn around and give him a good slap for his blatant disrespect. But he didn't care. He would speak his mind, no matter who stood before him.

"..." The disfigured man's glare sharpened, and a suffocating pressure descended upon Lianchen. It felt as though an immense, invisible sword was poised above him, ready to cleave him in two. The air grew dense, each second dragging on like an eternity.

Yet, despite the crushing weight, Lianchen didn't falter. His gaze met the disfigured man's with unwavering defiance, his spirit unyielding. No matter how oppressive the atmosphere became, Lianchen refused to back down.

"Good... good," the disfigured man finally said, a strange mix of admiration and annoyance in his voice. "You've truly impressed this old man... It's just a shame you came flying out of his balls. If only my wife could have carried you instead."

Lianchen's eyebrow twitched slightly at the comment, though he kept his composure. Meanwhile, Lan Mei and the white-haired man stood silent, their faces expressionless, as if they hadn't heard a thing.

The disfigured man reached into his robes and pulled out a weathered scroll, its edges frayed with age. Without a word, he unfurled it and began writing with deliberate precision, each stroke of his pen exuding an aura of power. Once finished, he rolled the scroll back up and extended it toward Lianchen.

Lianchen took the scroll, his gaze dropping to the title inscribed on it. Endless Heart Sword Art. The name alone radiated a profound strength, and the faint energy emanating from the scroll hinted at the depth of mastery required to wield it.

The Endless Heart Sword Art was unlike anything Lianchen had encountered before. It was a technique that transformed one's heart into the ultimate weapon. If your heart was in a state of rage, your power would skyrocket. If consumed by love, your strength would soar just as high. But the pinnacle of this technique lay in achieving the elusive Clear Heart State.

The Clear Heart State transcended any singular emotion. In this state, one could experience the full spectrum of emotions, wrath, love, fear, and more, but remain untouched by their influence. Instead, you controlled them, bending them to your will. This mastery allowed the practitioner to summon and amplify any emotion on command, unlocking a boundless well of power. It was this infinite potential that earned the technique its name: Endless Heart Sword Art.

"That is a sword art built on the concept of absolute control over one's heart and state of mind," the disfigured man said, his gaze steady as he observed Lianchen's shocked expression. "You have five years to master it. Only then will you be worthy of becoming my disciple."

His tone was calm, but the weight of his words left no room for negotiation. The challenge was as daunting as it was enticing, a test that would determine Lianchen's future 

"I don't like being tested," Lianchen said calmly, his gaze unwavering. "Especially when it's clear you need me more than I need you."

Lan Mei stood silently nearby, her expression unreadable. True to her nature, she rarely interfered in Lianchen's growth. She refused to teach him anything outright, leaving him to navigate his path and learn through his own efforts. The only time she stepped in was when he was on the verge of making a mistake with consequences too severe to ignore.

A teacher was important, Lianchen couldn't deny that. But he didn't care about lofty goals like splitting the heavens or surpassing them. Those were feats he believed he could achieve on his own. What mattered to him was finding a teacher who could help him gain mastery over his overwhelming power.

And this disfigured man had given him an art he couldn't ignore. The Endless Heart Sword Art wasn't just a technique; it was a key perfectly suited to unlocking Lianchen's potential. For the first time, Lianchen felt a flicker of respect for what this man could offer him.

"Brat... say that again?" The disfigured man's face darkened, his expression twisting with irritation. It was one thing to think such insolence, but to say it out loud?

Lianchen rolled his eyes, utterly unbothered by the man's reaction. He wasn't like Goku or Vegeta, running to Whis in desperation to be trained. No, Lianchen was self-taught, and he took pride in his ability to forge his own path. Still, even he had to admit—having a teacher wouldn't hurt. After all, shortcuts exist for a reason.

"We don't have much time. We should leave," the white-haired man said abruptly, his gaze fixed on the frozen sky above.

Lianchen frowned and instinctively followed the man's line of sight. Of course, he saw nothing. The empty sky offered no answers, but the tension in the man's voice was enough to make Lianchen uneasy. Whatever they were sensing, it was far beyond his current understanding.

"Then let's go," the disfigured man said with a frown, his expression shadowed with lingering frustration. He hadn't come to the lower realm to find Lianchen—his purpose here had been entirely different. This visit wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; it was the culmination of plans seeded millions of years ago. He had come to witness the fruits of those seeds, to see how they had sprouted over the eons.

But Lianchen's presence was an unexpected variable, one that could change everything. 

Once they left, Lan Mei turned to look at me, her gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as the frozen world began to return to its natural state. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, debating whether to speak or stay silent. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she took a deep breath and met my eyes.