In Shu Jing, inside a manor built against the mountain.
Ren had changed into a set of fitted black training clothes.
His hands rested flat on his knees, and his sitting posture was exceptionally proper.
In front of him sat a cup of fragrant green tea, clearly of excellent quality.
The scent alone was enough to refresh the heart and mind.
Across the tea table, Master Piandao was practicing calligraphy.
His brush danced effortlessly across the paper, the characters flowing in one unbroken motion.
Unlike Ren, who was leisurely sipping tea, Zuko, seated beside him, clearly did not have that kind of patience.
They had already been waiting for quite a while, yet this master swordsman had never once lifted his eyes to look at them.
No matter what, he was still the prince.
How dared this man ignore him?
“Master Piandao, I’m sure you already know why we’ve come,” Zuko said in a low voice.
“Please teach me your finest swordsmanship.” Piandao finished the final stroke, then lightly swept his sleeve to dry the ink before turning back to look at the two of them.
His gaze fell on the impatient Zuko, and he shook his head slightly.
Then he looked toward Ren, who was still drinking tea, and said, “Young man, do you have nothing to say?” “I know very well that this trip will most likely end in failure,” Ren said frankly.
“Even so, being able to taste such excellent tea means I didn’t come for nothing.” “If you won’t teach me swordsmanship, I’m not leaving!” Zuko said, deeply dissatisfied.
Piandao’s gaze returned to Zuko as he considered the matter.
Ordinarily, he would not have met either of these two.
But as it happened, he had reasons he could not refuse both of them.
Zuko went without saying.
If Piandao wanted to continue living quietly without being disturbed, then he would have to teach this prince.
Of course, there was also a deeper and more important reason.
As for Ren, he had only been able to enter thanks to Zuko.
However, if Piandao was to pass on his skills, both of them would have to show the proper qualities.
Only then could he teach according to their abilities.
“What weapons are the two of you skilled with?” Zuko was the first to stand.
“The Dao blade!” Impulsive.
Piandao seemed to see a shadow of his younger self in Zuko.
Ren also rose smoothly and answered calmly, “The sword.” Another one claiming to be skilled with the sword in front of him.
Piandao shook his head inwardly.
“You say you’re skilled with the sword.
Then let me see your level.” He glanced at his swordsmanship assistant and steward.
The man understood at once and immediately brought out a blade and a sword, delivering them into Zuko and Ren’s hands.
Seeing that Piandao had nothing in his hand except that brush, Ren asked curiously, “Master Piandao, aren’t you going to use a weapon?” Piandao shook his head and said, “This is enough.
Attack me with everything you have.
Let me see how much you’ve learned.” Hearing this, Ren said no more.
After all, the man was a master swordsman, while he himself was only an outsider who had barely found the doorway.
Worrying that he might hurt him would be a bit laughable.
Ren’s hand closed around the sword hilt, and his entire aura changed, as if even he himself had become a sharp blade drawn from its sheath.
He stepped forward, his sword flashing like a rainbow piercing the sun, a cold thrust aimed straight at Piandao’s throat.
Piandao nodded slightly, avoiding the strike with a small sidestep as he commented, “Your fundamentals are very solid.
Not bad.” Ren said nothing.
Flowing seamlessly from his first strike, he followed with a horizontal slash.
Piandao kept both hands behind his back and merely leaned away, the edge of the blade sweeping past the tip of his nose.
Ren was about to step forward and follow up with a shoulder check, but Piandao seemed to have already understood his next move.
He turned aside in advance, and the tip of the brush in his hand lightly touched Ren’s neck.
Ren sheathed his sword, stood straight, and bowed with cupped hands.
“I have embarrassed myself.” Piandao pulled back his brush and stared at Ren.
After a moment of silence, he asked, “Who is your father?” Ren was completely baffled and could only answer honestly.
“My father was Reno.
He has already passed away.” Hearing this, Piandao sighed, a little saddened, then waved his hand to indicate that Ren should step back.
Zuko stepped up to take his place.
After being ignored for so long, the prince had long since been holding in a fire.
Even so, Zuko still observed proper etiquette and first cupped his hands.
“Forgive the offense.” As soon as he finished speaking, he dipped down, sprang lightly forward, drew his blade, and slashed.
Piandao frowned.
Just as the long blade was about to cut into him, his wrist turned, and he lightly guided the blade off to the side.
Then he stepped forward, drawing a streak of ink across Zuko’s sword hand with his brush.
His voice was flat.
“Even your fundamentals are not solid.
How exactly did your tutor instruct you?” Zuko glared at him, refusing to admit defeat, and stubbornly said, “I was careless just now.
Again!” Piandao snorted coldly.
“In actual combat, who would give you the chance to try again?
If this were a battlefield, you would already have died at least ten times over!” Zuko was just about to retort that he had not used bending yet and had not displayed his true strength at all.
Then he heard Piandao say coldly, “Leave.
I do not need a disciple who cannot even control his own anger.” Zuko was tough enough about it.
If Piandao would not teach him, then fine.
He threw the dao blade to the ground, turned, and walked away.
Ren caught hold of the furious Zuko and said quietly, “Let’s leave together in a moment.
We should at least say goodbye to Master Piandao first.” Zuko stared at Ren in astonishment, not understanding why Ren would do this.
With his performance just now, Piandao would certainly accept him as a disciple.
Ren understood Zuko’s surprise and smiled.
“We came together.
Of course we should leave together.
You didn’t think I was the kind of person who had no sense of loyalty, did you?” After saying that, Ren let go of Zuko, properly presented the sword with both hands, and said sincerely, “…Master, I would like to ask, can Zuko truly not stay?” Piandao looked at Zuko’s gritted-teeth expression and gently shook his head.
“Then, Master, please forgive me.
I will leave together with Zuko.” “I rarely take disciples,” Piandao said slowly.
“Your talent is not bad.
It is only that your application of swordsmanship is still not deep enough.
“If I forged you myself, you could become a weapon without equal.
Have you thought this through?” “To be honest, I would certainly feel regret,” Ren said.
“But I understand even more clearly that if I did not leave together with Zuko, I would regret that far more.” He prepared to turn and walk out with Zuko.
But in the very next moment, Zuko turned back around.
He picked up the dao blade from the floor, dropped to one knee, and pleaded.
“Master, I know I don’t have much talent, whether in bending or martial arts.
But please accept Ren as your disciple.
“He is different from someone slow and dull like me.
As long as he has a famous teacher to guide him, he will naturally be able to fulfill his talent.” Ren was also a little surprised.
He hadn’t known Zuko prior to this, though he knew the boy was Azula’s brother.
Based on his initial behavior, Ren had assumed Zuko was just like Azula—possessing an incredibly fierce, unyielding pride.
He had never expected that Zuko would give up his dignity to plead on his behalf.
Piandao looked at the two young men before him and the sincere friendship between them.
It was as if, from their figures, he could see the shadows of comrades from long ago.
Sheathing the dao blade and sword, Piandao turned away with his hands behind his back.
Just as Ren and Zuko exchanged bewildered looks, Piandao’s voice drifted over.
“Be in the courtyard for training at five tomorrow morning.
Neither of you is to be late.” A look of pure delight washed over Zuko’s face.
While Ren remained more composed, he couldn’t help but let a soft smile slip.