Guan had a penchant for "testing" the disciples, but in truth, he simply relished holding court with the young…
Guan had a penchant for "testing" the disciples, but in truth, he simply relished holding court with the younger generation.
What trouble have they run into lately? What books are making the rounds? What's the latest gossip? And, most importantly, what new nicknames have they cooked up for the old "Rotten Stork"?
Watching them, he sees echoes of himself when he was young. And echoes of the ones who never came back.
This old soul, with his relentless inquiries and occasional bouts of eccentricity, never forgets what he really is: an elder of the Mohist Hill. He watches over every disciple like they're his own. He keeps his finger on the pulse of everything that happens within the mountain.
Truth be told, among his peers, there were many who eclipsed him in brilliance. In his youth, the thought of ascending to Elderhood had never crossed his mind. The reason was simple: so many of those radiant souls left the mountain, and they never returned.
Generation upon generation, his eyes have clouded with age, while his heart, once raw and unversed, has been chiseled open, valve by valve. He is like a weathered foundation stone, quietly wedged at the very base of this great edifice, unassuming, unyielding, watching the tides of change wash over Mohist Hill for decades. A new Grandmaster has arrived, another youth. To be young... it is a wondrous thing.
The only constant within the walls of Mohist City is the spirit of these young souls. There is always someone young, generation after generation...