The Forsaken Disciple: Rise of the Immortal Emperor

Chapter 2: The Broken Jade Pendant (Part II)

Chen did not notice it at first.

His entire world had narrowed to the shattered fragments lying across the forest floor, each broken piece of jade catching the pale morning light for the briefest instant before sinking back into shadow.

Only moments ago, the pendant had rested in his palm with an inexplicable warmth, as if something inside it had still been alive. Now it was nothing but wreckage: broken jade, dirt, and blood stains.

Behind him, Zhao Feng’s laughter rang through the ancestral mountain, loud and ugly against the hush of the ancient trees.

“I almost believed he’d stumbled onto some ancient treasure,” Zhao Feng said, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment.

He nudged one of the fragments with the tip of his boot and sneered. “But I suppose this suits him. Even Heaven only gives Chen broken things.”

The others burst out laughing.

One disciple bent over so hard he had to brace his hands against his knees. “I have seen beggars at the foot of the mountain with better fortune than this.”

Another smirked and added, “If he keeps collecting trash so diligently, the elders may finally reward him. Perhaps they will promote him to Chief Sweeper.”

More laughter followed, rising and falling in cruel waves.

Chen did not respond.

He knelt in the dirt and kept gathering the fragments one by one, handling them with such careful precision that it almost seemed painful. It was not because the pendant looked valuable. It did not. Anyone with eyes could see it was ruined.

And yet something inside him refused to let it go; he could not explain why.

The feeling made no sense, and that only unsettled him more. It felt less like thought and more like instinct, the kind that moved before the mind could understand it.

Protecting the shattered jade felt strangely similar to protecting the last trace of a dream he had already forgotten, or the fading memory of someone he had once loved but could no longer remember clearly enough to name.

Another drop of blood slid from the cut across his palm and landed on the largest fragment. Then another followed. Then a third. The blood vanished. It disappeared completely, as though the jade had swallowed it whole.

No stain remained on the cracked surface. No red trace lingered in its fractures. The broken pendant drank every drop in silence.

Deep within those splintered lines, where no human eye was watching closely enough to see, a single golden rune stirred to life.

Then another awakened beside it. The light was faint, almost imperceptible. None of the disciples noticed.

None of them had the eyes for it, but something had answered.

Far away, beyond the mountains wrapped in cloud and beyond rivers older than dynasties, an ancient ruin slept beneath the weight of forgotten ages.

Deep in its buried heart, within a stone chamber untouched by sun, moon, or time, a candle that had burned without flame for countless centuries suddenly flickered.

The old caretaker seated before it slowly opened his cloudy eyes. For a long moment, he did not breathe. “Impossible...” he whispered.

His gaze lifted toward the eastern horizon, toward something no ordinary sight could pierce, and his weathered hands began to tremble. “The bloodline...”

His voice cracked. “Has it awakened?”

The candle went out. Darkness swallowed the chamber whole.

Back on the ancestral mountain, Zhao Feng’s amusement had already begun to sour.

He had expected a reaction. Tears, perhaps. Begging. Rage. He would have been satisfied with any sign that Chen could still be hurt in a way that showed on his face.

But Chen simply remained on his knees, picking up the shattered pieces as if the rest of the world no longer existed.

That silence infuriated Zhao Feng far more than defiance would have. “Enough.”

His voice cut through the air like a whip.

He strode forward and drove his foot hard into Chen’s shoulder.

The kick sent Chen crashing backward into the ruined stone statue. Pain burst through his back in a blinding wave, and a dull crack echoed across the mountain as stone shuddered against stone.

Dust rained down from the weathered ruin.

One of Zhao Feng’s companions stiffened and glanced uneasily at the statue. “Senior Brother... maybe we should not damage this place.”

Zhao Feng scoffed without a second thought. “This?” He threw the ruin a dismissive glance. “It is nothing but an abandoned relic. No elder comes here.”

Then he looked down at Chen, contempt curling at the edge of his mouth. “And neither does anyone important.”

Chen drew a breath through clenched teeth and slowly pushed himself upright. His shoulder burned. Fresh blood seeped down his palm. Even so, he did not release the fragments. Not one.

That stubbornness erased the last of Zhao Feng’s amusement.

His expression hardened. “What exactly is so precious about that thing?”

For the first time since the bullying began, Chen answered him.

His voice came out low and steady, though it surprised even him. “I don’t know.”

And it was the truth.

He did not know why the pendant mattered. He did not know what it was, who had left it here, or why touching it had filled him with a sense of impossible familiarity.

But every instinct in his body screamed the same warning: Do not let it go. Do not abandon it. Not now and not ever.

Zhao Feng gave a short, mocking laugh. “You have become sentimental over garbage.”

Then, as though Chen had become too pathetic even to torment further, he turned away.

“Let’s go.”

The others followed him, still chuckling under their breath. None of them spared Chen a final glance. Their footsteps receded through the trees until the mountain swallowed them completely.

Only then did Chen let out the breath he had been holding. The forest finally was quiet again, but not peaceful.

His whole body ached. His shoulder throbbed with every movement, and the wound in his palm refused to close.

He looked down at the fragments in his bloodied hand and gave a weak, humorless laugh. “What am I doing?”

The words slipped from him before he could stop them.