The four hundred and ninety-nine disciples had understood one thing about Rouxi's selection process for her next child.
It was combat-based and only one would remain standing.
But in doing so, they had forgotten something far more important.
Morality. Talent. Origin.
These were the three requirements she had established from the start.
Every one of them had been so desperate to prove their talent and strength that they forgot Rouxi wasn't looking for a disciple, nor a subordinate.
She wanted a son.
Talent and power could be easily solved. But a man's mind, his values, his morality... those were difficult things to cultivate.
And yet, even with everything laid out so plainly, the young disciple kneeling before her still hadn't grasped it.
"W-why?" he asked again, his eyes clouded with anger and indignation. His body trembled as he stayed on his knees, his palms pressed flat against the cold stone of the pavilion floor.
Rouxi let out a quiet sigh of disappointment.
