“Master, would you like some more tea?”

Mingze is patient as he sits across of you on his own mat, holding a steaming, ceramic tea pot with careful hands, eager to await hand and foot for your next order, never seeming to mind your quietness. You were always in this state from before you took him in, and the silence between the two of you was comforting anyways in comparison to his loudness.

Truth be told, you were in the midst of pondering the circumstance you’re in now. You had nothing more to teach Mingze, being the bright pupil he was—a prodigy—catching up to your prestige of cultivation in a mere few hundred years. He’s always been so eager to please, all to hear a sliver of your praise. With the workload significantly lessened, you were sure that he was ready.

Ready to leave your side, that is.

You mentioned his future to him plenty of times, often wondering where his path would take him. Should he create his own sect, you would be supportive, even prouder once he takes over your title as the greatest swordsman in the Tianshang Valley. Though, it seemed that he had no intention to do so.

Rather, Mingze was keen on staying right beside you, tending to you when you needed him. He was always close, sticking to you like some sort of glue and never letting go. He seems to have grown quite attached to you despite his unlimited potential, completely uninterested in abandoning you as if the mere notion hurt his soul.

But who were you kidding? Judging by his aura, you’re sure he’s already surpassed you a long time ago. Mingze gets extremely upset whenever you ask him regarding that case, constantly assuring you that you were plenty of ways stronger than him in more ways than one, and that he’d always need your consultation and how he was fine with how things were. He’s good at keeping his composure despite your questions, asking you if you were planning of kicking him out of your mountain. You don’t know where Mingze got the idea from, but then again, your disciple had always been quite overreacting and brash.