The Forsaken Disciple: Rise of the Immortal Emperor

Chapter 2: The Broken Jade Pendant

The golden light disappeared.

One moment, it pulsed beneath the broken stone statue like the heartbeat of a sleeping star. Next, it vanished so completely that Chen almost doubted he had seen it at all.

He froze where he stood.

A heavy silence settled over the mountain. Even the wind that had whispered through the ancient pines only moments earlier seemed to retreat, leaving behind an eerie stillness that pressed against his ears.

Chen frowned. Did I imagine it?

No. He was certain of what he had seen.

For five years, he had climbed these forgotten stone steps every morning, sweeping away fallen leaves while the rest of the sect cultivated beneath the rising sun.

In all that time, not once had anything unusual happened here, but today was different. Something had called to him.

He stepped closer to the ruined statue. Its weathered face had long since crumbled away, leaving behind only a damaged torso draped in moss and creeping vines.

Time had stripped away whatever identity the statue once possessed, and even the stone inscription beneath it had eroded into meaningless scratches.

The elders claimed this place had once belonged to one of the sect’s founders. The younger disciples called it the Mountain of Misfortune. No one came here willingly except Chen, because no one else wanted to.

He leaned his bamboo broom against the statue and crouched beside the cracked pedestal. With careful movements, he brushed aside a layer of damp leaves.

There was nothing beneath them. He pushed away loose dirt and small stones, but still found nothing. “That’s strange,” he murmured under his breath.

He knew the light had come from here. He was too certain of that to dismiss it as a trick of the eye.

Determined to uncover the truth, Chen picked up a stone the size of his fist and began prying away the larger chunks of broken rock surrounding the base. He worked steadily, removing one piece after another as the minutes passed.

Sweat gathered along his forehead despite the cool mountain breeze.

Just as he was beginning to think he had been mistaken, a faint metallic sound rang out beneath the rubble. Clink.

Chen stopped at once. His heartbeat quickened.

Carefully, he cleared away another layer of shattered stone until something no larger than his palm emerged from the earth. It was a jade pendant, or rather, it was what remained of one.

Time had not been kind to it. Its once-smooth surface was covered in countless cracks, and half of its circular body had broken away long ago. Strange silver veins spread across the remaining jade like frozen lightning, while faded golden runes curled along its edges.

Chen had never seen writing like that before. The script looked ancient, elegant, and strangely alive. For the briefest instant, the symbols shimmered.

Then they became motionless once more. He reached out slowly, almost afraid that the pendant would disappear if he moved too quickly.

The moment his fingertips touched the cold jade, a faint warmth flowed into his hand. It was not spiritual qi. It was not ordinary heat.

The sensation was gentle and strangely comforting, like stepping beside a fire after wandering through a winter storm. The tension in Chen’s face eased.

For reasons he could not explain, the pendant felt familiar to him, as though it had been waiting in silence for his arrival.

He turned it over in his hand, searching for some clue to its origin, but found nothing. There was no sect emblem, no family crest, and no inscription he could recognize.

There were only cracks upon cracks, as if time itself had tried to erase the object from existence. “Who left you here?” he asked quietly.

His voice disappeared into the forest, and no answer came. Instead, another sound broke the silence.

A dry branch snapped somewhere behind him. Chen’s entire body stiffened. He turned at once. Several figures emerged from between the ancient trees.

The moment Chen recognized them, his heart sank. Zhao Feng.

Behind him stood four familiar disciples, the same ones who had humiliated him earlier that morning. Each wore the easy grin of someone who had stumbled upon unexpected entertainment.

“Well, well,” Zhao Feng said as he folded his arms. “I was wondering where the little sweeper had run off to.”

One of the others laughed. “So this is where trash comes to hide?”

Another glanced toward the ruined statue. “I heard this place was cursed,” he said before looking back at Chen with open mockery. “I suppose that’s why you fit in so well.”

The group burst into laughter.

Without drawing attention to himself, Chen slipped the pendant into his sleeve. It was a small movement, nearly invisible.

Zhao Feng’s eyes sharpened at once. “What was that?”

Chen’s expression did not change. “Nothing.”

“Oh?” Zhao Feng took a step forward. “You’ve learned to lie now?”

Chen rose to his feet and faced him calmly. “There is nothing here worth your attention.”

Those words only deepened Zhao Feng’s suspicion. Without warning, Zhao Feng shoved him backward.

Chen stumbled, but he managed to keep his footing.

Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes. “Search him.”

Before Chen could react, two disciples seized his arms. A third stepped forward and began patting down his worn robes with rough, careless movements.

Chen struggled on instinct. “Let go of me.”

The disciple searching him laughed. “What’s this? The cripple finally found his courage?”

Another hand thrust into Chen’s sleeve. A moment later, the disciple’s fingers closed around the jade pendant. “What do we have here?” he said with delight.

He pulled it free.

At that exact moment, sunlight finally broke through the trees. Golden rays filtered through the canopy and struck the cracked jade, causing the ancient runes to flicker for the briefest instant.

None of the disciples noticed. Only Chen saw it.

His eyes widened slightly. It reacted…

The disciple held the pendant up for everyone to see. Then the forest erupted with laughter.

“Hahaha!”

“It’s broken!”

“So even trash collects garbage now?”

One of Zhao Feng’s companions bent over laughing, clutching his stomach. “I thought he’d finally found a treasure,” he wheezed. “It’s just a worthless piece of cracked jade!”

The pendant was tossed from one disciple to another as though it were a child’s toy. Each throw drew another round of laughter.

Chen watched in silence.

Something inside him slowly tightened. It was not because the pendant looked valuable. It was because every careless touch and every mocking laugh felt wrong in a way he could not explain. Deep within him, some instinct whispered that they should stop.

He took a step forward. “Give it back.”

The laughter died at once.

A sudden quiet spread through the forest as Zhao Feng stared at him in amused disbelief. “What did you say?”

Chen met his gaze directly. “That is my pendant,” he said. “Return it.”

The firmness in his voice caught everyone by surprise. Then Zhao Feng smiled.

It was not a pleasant smile. It was cold, cruel, and touched with something darker than ordinary mockery. “I think,” he said slowly, weighing the pendant in his hand, “I’ll keep it.”

 Took a step back. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

Zhao Feng let out a short laugh and glanced at his companions. “Did everyone hear that? The sect’s greatest failure is making demands now.”

The others laughed again.

Chen’s hands curled into fists at his sides, and his fingernails bit into his palms. The pain barely registered. This feeling was too familiar.

Every time he had tried to protect something, he had failed every single time.

Zhao Feng looked at the cracked jade for another moment, then sighed dramatically. “What a shame,” he said.

He lifted his eyes and looked directly into Chen’s face. “It’s already broken.” His smile widened. “I wonder how much more broken it can become.”

Chen’s expression changed at last. “No!”

But he was too late. With a cruel grin, Zhao Feng brought the pendant down against a jagged stone. CRACK!

The ancient jade shattered. Fragments scattered across the forest floor like fallen stars. For a single heartbeat, everything stood still.

Even Zhao Feng seemed startled.

The sound of breaking jade echoed far louder than it should have, as though something ancient and unseen had cried out in pain.

Ignoring the laughter that burst out behind him, Chen rushed forward and dropped to his knees. His hands trembled as he gathered the shattered pieces from the ground.

Most of the fragments were no larger than fingernails. One piece, however, was razor sharp. The instant his fingers closed around it, the edge sliced into his palm.

Pain flashed through his hand.

A deep crimson line opened across his skin, and blood dripped onto the largest fragment of broken jade. One drop fell. Then another, then a third. None of the disciples paid any attention. They were still too busy laughing at him.

But beneath Chen’s bloodstained fingers, the broken jade quietly absorbed each crimson drop.

The blood vanished without leaving behind even the faintest stain. It was as if the pendant had been waiting for his blood all along.