Chapter Eleven: The Empty Throne
"To be followed is the final trap."— Shen Wei
I thought that was the end of it.
The refusal.
The silence.
The man who left with his sword still clean.
But then the letters began.
One by one.
From monks, cultivators, even a prince from the southern sands.
They didn't threaten me. They didn't accuse me.
They admired me.
They asked for teachings. Insights. A philosophy. A sect.
"Show us the Way of Nothing," they wrote."Let us become as empty as you."
I had no teachings. No path. No sermons.
But the myth had already formed.
And myths don't wait for permission.
One morning, the warden summoned me. His face was pale, sweat on his brow.
"They're outside," he said. "Not the guards. The people. They want to see you."
I followed him.
The gate was open.
Outside stood dozens. Maybe a hundred. Some in robes. Some in armor. Some barefoot, holding prayer beads or scrolls or nothing at all.
One man stepped forward.
His hair was long, his expression calm.
He bowed low.
"We seek the one who let go of self. The Hollow Ascendant."
Zhao Gu, behind me, muttered, "...we need to trademark that name before it gets out of hand."
The man continued.
"We wish to build a hall in your name. A place to learn the path of negation. Not worship. Not doctrine. Just… reflection."
He paused.
"We ask that you lead it."
I stared at him.
Then at the others.
Eyes full of hope. Sincerity. Silence.
They didn't want a fight.
They wanted a meaning.
And that, I realized, was even more dangerous.
Later, Zhao Gu and I sat in the usual courtyard, watching a moth try to escape a lantern.
"You gonna do it?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Accept. Lead them. Be the Grandmaster of Nothingness."
I said nothing.
He laughed. "That's the problem with becoming a mirror, Shen Wei—everyone starts seeing what they want."
"I'm not Shen Wei."
"Exactly."
I waited a day before answering.
I met the followers outside the gate.
They stood straighter when I arrived. Quietly reverent. Ready.
I didn't speak for a long time.
Then finally, I said:
"No."
Gasps. Confusion.
The leader stepped forward again. "We only want to learn. To become—"
"Nothing," I said. "You want to become nothing?"
He nodded. "Yes. As you did."
I stepped closer.
Looked him in the eye.
"You want to wear emptiness like a badge. Build a hall. Create a name out of no-name. But the moment you try to be nothing—you are something again."
He opened his mouth.
I continued.
"You seek a throne built of absence. But that is still a throne."
Silence.
I smiled, gently.
"There is nothing to follow. And that's the point."
They left.
Not angry.
But unsure.
Some cried. Some bowed. One man laughed, deeply and honestly, and walked away lighter than he arrived.
And some stayed, standing at the gate for hours.
Waiting for me to change my mind.
I didn't.
Zhao Gu found me that evening, sitting on the roof with my legs crossed and my eyes on the sky.
"You crushed them," he said.
"I freed them."
He nodded, then offered me something wrapped in paper.
"A peach," he said. "Figured you'd want to eat the symbol of your past."
I bit into it.
It was sour.
Perfect.
That night, I didn't dream.
And in the morning, I knew.
It was time to leave.