There it was, my supposed-to-be jackpot.
I couldn't bring myself to look up at him, feeling a surge of nerves coursing through me. In my silence, I couldn't help but acknowledge that I was being rude, failing to meet his gaze.
I sensed his eyes on me for a fleeting moment, perhaps assessing me, but the irony was not lost on me; there was nothing remarkable to be found. I was painfully aware of my own shortcomings, feeling ugly and utterly worthless.
I was nothing, and it seemed destined to remain so, a product of the upbringing that had shaped me.
"Then brother, what do you think of my remark?", Lord blessing be upon him said.
I didn't look up at him. I couldn't. I was afraid that I would read his face. Read what he was thinking of me. Even though I knew what he was thinking, it still hurt when I met reality. Even though I was used to it all, sometimes it was still like a first time.
"Well, who is born to achieve great?"
"Well"
"I am," I forced the words out quickly.
I was nervous. I couldn't bring myself to say things my mind wished to tell.
On the other hand, He just laughed in an appreciative tone.
I felt happy, a feeling of surge of joy and gratitude. His laughter was genuine and reassuring.
I had always been the outcast of the family, used as my father's pleasure sleeve.
Father would've killed me if I said anything about it.
He always came to reach to me at night once aunt slept.
Step-Mother was beautiful so I wonder what he saw in me to use me. I felt so dirty.
He would shut me down with food and would beat me worse than normal if I didn't give him the smile he was expecting me to show.
"You wish to open a sect for yourself and have everything you wish to have?"
I looked at him.
"My own sect? I fail to grasp your meaning, Milord,"
"Imagine the freedom of creating your own sect, where your beliefs and values take center stage, where you have the power to shape the community according to your vision. An opportunity to cultivate a space where your ideals flourish, where every aspect reflects your deepest desires and aspirations. Having the freedom to craft a sanctuary tailored precisely to your needs, with no compromises. It's a chance to manifest your dreams into reality and lead a life that truly aligns with your innermost wishes"
He didn't even wait for me to grasp and said all these things which ignited the spark within me like a glimmer of hope in the darkness, a beacon of light that promised salvation from the confines of my past.
**********************************************
After Lord and Sister Hui Ying departed, I was left to face the judgmental stares of those who once called themselves my friends. Their Hatred cut deeper than any blade.
They all were my friends but now that I got the opportunity, they have forgotten those good moments.
I take a glimpse at my brother (Disciple 1) but dare not approach him since I had insulted him and mocked him in front of the lord just before because of acting cool in nervousness.
After reaching my room in the dirty inn I was staying in,
I went over to the mirror and looked at myself.
The dress I was wearing was not something I should have worn and that too never when I was shamelessly eating and gulping down the food.
But I couldn't help, I was nervous and as I am just a nameless person who never had the opportunity to eat such sweets and meals.
And How could I possibly refuse the offerings laid before me? It wasn't my place to dictate what should or shouldn't be served. The temptation was overwhelming, and there seemed to be no limit to the extravagant treats on offer.
"Whatever you desire, simply ask for it. Eat to your heart's content," they insisted, plying me with an endless array of delectable cakes and sweets. Try as I might to decline, the servers were relentless, continuously replenishing the offerings before me.
I succumbed to temptation, knowing full well that such pleasures were beyond my reach. "Sister Hui Ying truly has a heart as vast as the ocean," I mused silently, marveling at her generosity. "But the Lord's benevolence knows no bounds, for he has granted me this extraordinary opportunity."
I was happy but soon it turned into ugliness, I happened to once again look at myself in the mirror 'I truly look like a pig' and then unfortunately memories of home surfaced in my mind which was a nightmare to me.
Fleeing the confines of my childhood home, I left behind not just material possessions, but also the stifling constraints of my past. Despite the uncertainty of my future, there was a strange sense of liberation in knowing that I was no longer bound by the suffocating atmosphere that had plagued me for so long.
Memories of my mother, fleeting and bittersweet, haunted my thoughts as I forged ahead into the unknown. A part of me held onto the hope that she might somehow find solace in my departure, that my actions would finally earn her pride. Yet deep down, I knew the harsh truth—her death in childbirth was a consequence of my very existence. The weight of that guilt settled heavily on my shoulders, a burden I carried with unwavering acceptance.
In the quiet moments of solitude, my grandmother's words offered a semblance of comfort, a whispered promise that the pain would one day fade. But as I stood before the mirror, gazing into the weary reflection that stared back at me, it was clear that the wounds of the past still festered within. Dark circles shadowed my tired eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights spent grappling with fear and uncertainty.
With each labored breath, I felt the weight of my past sins pressing down on me, threatening to suffocate any semblance of peace or redemption. But even in the depths of despair, there lingered a glimmer of hope—a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished, no matter how fierce the storm raged around me.
"I'm ugly," the words escaped my lips, venomous and unforgiving, as I locked eyes with my reflection in the mirror. The repetition was almost hypnotic, a relentless assault on my self-worth.
"No one will ever love you," I continued, each syllable dripping with disdain. The tears welled up, tracing silent paths down my cheeks, but I refused to acknowledge their presence.
"Look at these eyes, these dirty clothes and face," I scoffed, gesturing towards my reflection with disdain. The ugly eyes staring back at me seemed lifeless, devoid of any spark of vitality.
"Even your 'wife' would never love you," I mocked bitterly, the laughter hollow and devoid of mirth. The idea of finding love seemed like a distant fantasy, reserved for those who were worthy of affection.
"Will I even get a wife?" I questioned aloud, the bitterness seeping into my voice. Perhaps, I speculated, if I were to become Sect Leader.
'He is so compassionate despite the fact my demeanor was rude, he still came to help me.'
'I wonder what he found in me that he reached out to me'
As I muttered those words, a storm of emotions erupted within me, manifesting in violent actions. My fists pounded against the unyielding wall, my foot lashing out at the innocent couch. anger were ripped from my hair, each one a symbol of restraint I couldn't bear. Seizing a vase from the nearby table, I hurled it at the mocking reflection in the mirror, the shattering glass a cruel echo of the brokenness inside.
Later that night.
Three... two... and one.
I sneaked out of the inn to go to a hotel. It seems like a private place since no one seems to be there.
'Aah'
A sharp pain entered my pain telling me to turn back but I couldn't do that.
As soon as I crossed the threshold of the hotel, a strange sensation filled my head. It was like a map of the building had been imprinted in my mind, and I knew exactly where to go. I followed the invisible trail that led me to the lord's suite.