Leaving for training

Zeal stared at the twin's back as the wind fluttered their robe. He gazed at their back, amazed. Anyway, there was nothing he could do about them. In fact, their levels might be different. Zeal stood up and dusted his robe, and sighed. Those bastards had bruised him badly, but there was nothing he could do. He walked away powerlessly.

After the day's work, Zeal walked the street again; he lumbered his way back. At this moment, that eerie feeling he felt yesterday repeated again. He was alone in a blue fog. Although in a natural sense, people were still passing the street. But now, Zeal was alone in the cloud.

"Well done for fighting back!" The same majestic voice praised slightly.

"But…I couldn't hold those people off. In the end, I was still weak." Zeal said with bitter regret.

"Who said you should defeat them?" The dignified voice sighed, but he laughed arrogantly. It was as though he owned the world. After a moment of silence, the majestic voice roared again.

"Okay smelly boy! My name is Sou Long. You can call me: Master Sou."

"Is that it? You will train me?"

"Why? You don't want it?"

"Of course, I want to! I want to be strong."

The wind fluttered heavily, dispersing the blue fog. As the cloud cleared, the place became cold. However, a man stood dignified in front of Zeal. The man appeared to be in his sixties. But in fact, he wasn't that old. He was graceful and neat, much like a secluded scholar who had nothing to do with the world. His lip was symmetrical, and his eyes appeared sharp like a sword. He packed back his long white hair, yet the rest fell like a waterfall. In fact, his white hair complemented his snow-white robe. At the same time, on each side of his face grew a plated strand of his white hair; he clipped them with flashing long golden beads. Immediately Sou Long appeared—the fog covered him heavily. His appearance was short enough for Zeal to pass a glance at his features so he could recognize him the next moment.

"Brat, we'll leave in two days; prepare yourself well." The majestic voice faded with a snort.

"How should I find you?"

"Wait for me here in the next two days before sunrise. You have to do well to convince your mother."

At this moment, the street came back alive. All fog disappeared like it was never there. 'wait! How did that old man know my mother?' Zeal contemplated with a complex expression. His mother well being was his ultimate priority. As usual, the people in the street did not notice a thing. This situation made Zeal wonder: how did that old man do it? Was he a spirit or some kind of ghost? He shook his head, admonishing himself to forget it.

A moment later, he got home and entered the tea shop. He saw his mother serving customers who came to drink evening tea to warm themselves. She always worked hard and did not dare to slack off. This scene of seeing his mother suffer had become Zeal's black ghost; he wanted to quickly stop his mother from doing any hard work. But of course, that was his mother's decision. A woman who would work rather than scrounge free meals. This situation hurt Zeal's heart despite being a small boy who shouldn't understand these tiniest details. Anyway, he does, and these had already become his demon—having a high IQ and EQ. Even his mother wasn't totally aware of this part of his son. Of course, she wasn't totally oblivious about those little changes—after all, he was her son.

"Mom, I'm back." Zeal spoke enthusiastically.

His mother finished with the last customer and walked toward his son. "Child, you are pretty hurt." Elizabeth frowned; she knew she wasn't supposed to bring these things up lest she worries her son with her reaction. However, she was a mother. How could a mother (like herself) possibly swallow the shame of someone bullying her son repeatedly without saying anything? Even though it was to pet his head and tell him it would be okay—she could at very least do that for him.

"Mom, it's nothing."

Elizabeth knew his son didn't want her to worry, but that was the most painful part of this entire situation.

"Mom, I want to train with an old master—I saw today." Zeal's cute voice sounded optimistic, washing away his mother's worries momentarily. Of course, it was only a short impulse and nothing more because his mother frowned the next second.

"How old are you: just five, and you want to leave your mom? Are you that anxious?" Elizabeth said with dissatisfaction.

"That's not it, mom. I want to take this opportunity. I can't continue to make you worry." Zeal said with a pleading tone. He was petulant all of a sudden, showing his childish nature. This immediately shattered his mother's defense, but she wasn't about to give up; she sighed.

"Mom, please say something." Zeal beckoned with a petulant voice.

Elizabeth sighed again.

"Mom had prepared something for you. You said the old master would pick you up in two days. Then, he had to visit me because I have to know the person I am handing over my only love to."

Zeal laughed with satisfaction because he knew his mother still considered his happiness. In fact, he was the same. His mother was his first priority. He pounced on his mother and hugged her tightly. The people in the shop sighed in admiration as they watched the mother and son. "Thanks, mom."

"Mhm!" Elizabeth nodded gently. She wasn't entirely happy to part with her son, but it seemed nature had prepared a lot for her. She just prayed that nature wouldn't play tricks on her again.

But in a far distance, watching the mother and son, was Sandy Maurita. He sighed continuously: it seemed he had no chance to be in the mother and son's lives. Maurita's eyes were red; his heart did not know how to react. However, he knew he shouldn't rush things now. If not, he might lose both of them. Elizabeth had not paid attention to him, but she had not done anything with others either. Her only concern seemed to be her son. So he was going to wait till she was finally ready. But for now, she had erected a high wall bridging him from getting closer to her. In fact, she seemed to be concerned about what his son would think. However, Maurita had made up his mind that Elizabeth must be the mother of his children, and even though she wasn't willing to birth children for him, he was still inclined to be with her. He knew Elizabeth understood gratitude, and he wasn't about to use any despicable means to subdue her. He turned around in pain and left. His heart ached. In fact, he knew even with Zeal absent, there might not be any hope for them to develop affection.

Zeal had his bath, ate, and retired for the day. As he lay on his bed, he was in a good mood. He smiled and rolled from flank to flank on his bed, smiling like a fool. He didn't know that training with that old man was the same as pitching a camp in the middle of hell—it was a dead end.

Two days quickly passed. Sou Long had mysteriously appeared to Elizabeth and said a few things. In fact, the content of the discussion was only known to Elizabeth. Honestly, whatever made Elizabeth readily give his son out must be fascinating. But the truth was that: it happened. Elizabeth found it hard to part with his son, but she could only endure the torture as there was no other solution.

Zeal arrived on the same street at the appointed time. It was early in the morning, and the whole place was still dark with some dim light coming from oil lamps. The place was naturally eerie and scary. In fact, Zeal was out of place as he stood alone. Zeal waited for the old man. In truth, apart from waiting, what else could he do?

"Brat, you are ready, I presume?" A majestic voice asked as the wind rippled. This voice always carries awe whenever spoken. However, whether the amazement was for everyone or only for him, Zeal couldn't carelessly guess that.

"The journey starts here." The dignified voice bellowed again, followed by a shadow appearing from the thick night. It was Sou Long.

"Master Sou?" Zeal asked just to be sure.

"Brat, this training won't be easy. If you aren't ready, you better go back."

"What do you mean, Master Sou?"

Master Sou Bellowed a burst of arrogant laughter.

"You will know in time." The majestic voice came as a whisper.

The big and small silhouettes set off. Their journey would be long, and the experience would be worth ten coffins of immortal bodies. Sou Long knew that the little child needed to train from this age so as to brush up on the loose end so that his foundation would be stable. This was usually the age at which many mistakes occurred. So he wanted to use the opportunity to groom him. They walked farther away from the street.