C2 The Ye Family of the Gunan

As the seasons cycled from spring to fall, eight years swiftly passed by. The memories of events from eight years prior remained as clear as if they had happened just yesterday.

Within a grand hall at this moment, the space was expansive, though not overwhelmingly so. Three rows of children, mostly around eight or nine years old, stood side by side—boys and girls alike. A middle-aged man in grey, about forty years old, surveyed the scene from atop a raised platform. His demeanor and the respectful gazes of those around him made it clear that he was the head of the household. Upon closer examination, this man was none other than Ye Wuya, the same individual who had years ago cut open a woman's abdomen to retrieve her child.

Such scenes were common in the city of Strihgan, which, like any other city in the world, was home to countless Soul Cultivator families. Ye Wuya belonged to one such family, known as the Ye family.

Currently, the Ye family was engaged in assessing the level of the Soul Seed for their children. The ages of eight or nine were prime for such testing, yet no one fretted over the children's aptitude for Soul Cultivation—it was something that could be discerned at a glance, and all the children had already been evaluated.

"Second brother, has Ye Mo not arrived yet?"

But they weren't rushing to begin the testing; they were waiting for the family patriarch, Ye Wuya, to speak. After a considerable pause, Ye Wuya calmly addressed another middle-aged man nearby, "That person..."

The man referred to as Second Brother was seated comfortably on a broad bench. At the mention of Ye Mo, he pursed his lips and shook his head. This Second Brother, named Ye Hua, held the second-highest position in the Ye family. At that moment, Ye Hua was making a concerted effort to hide his scorn and disapproval; he didn't wish to upset the patriarch.

"Go, fetch him and tell him his father is calling," Ye Wuya commanded, his face stern. If not for his constant protection, his son might not have survived to this day. As he spoke to his second brother, Ye Hua, Ye Wuya felt a profound sense of anguish within.

"Third brother, why are you so fixated on him? He's not your flesh and blood, and he's soulless. With no soul and no aptitude for becoming a Soul Cultivator, how long can he possibly survive? If you continue to fret over him, what if Ye Mo dies tomorrow? What then?" Finally, Ye Hua, unable to contain his frustration, stood up and confronted Ye Wuya before the entire assembly in the hall.

The hall fell into a profound silence. Everyone's face was a mask of neutrality, for they all harbored the same thoughts but dared not voice them out of respect for the Ye family's head.

"Second Uncle, how can you speak like that? Isn't he your nephew?" The one to break the silence was a girl, around fourteen or fifteen, dressed in a white gown, her features delicate and pleasing.

"Qing'er, are you scolding your Second Uncle?" Ye Hua's face flushed with embarrassment as he incredulously addressed the young girl who had risen to speak.

Qing'er's boldness wasn't just a result of her kind heart or her tendency to speak her mind. She was Ye Wuya's only daughter, Ye Qing'er, and Ye Mo had grown up under her watchful eye.

Ye Wuya hadn't anticipated the day's events in the hall. Shaking his head gently, he spoke, "Alright, wait here, everyone. I'll go and call..." His voice was even-tempered, devoid of anger, for he knew the importance of harmony within the family.

Creak...

Suddenly, the hall's tightly closed wooden door emitted a sharp noise as it swung open. A boy of about eight or nine years old stepped into the light. Dressed in a white robe similar to the other children, with a green silk belt around his waist and his shiny black hair neatly tied into a bun at the back, his youthful face bore a touch of melancholy. His star-like eyes quietly surveyed everyone in the room.

"No need to call. I'm here."

Indeed, the boy who had just entered was the same child Ye Wuya had miraculously brought back eight years prior. No one knew how long he had stood outside, nor what he had overheard. Regardless, Ye Mo's demeanor was one of unsettling calmness, an unusual stillness for a boy his age, his resilience tugging at the heartstrings.

"Mo, you've arrived. Second Uncle, I spoke without thinking..."

Upon Ye Mo's entrance at that moment, everyone was taken aback, including Ye Hua, Ye Mo's 'Second Uncle'. It was obvious to anyone that Ye Mo had overheard everything Ye Hua had just said.

"Mo, hear me out," Ye Wuya implored, his gaze fixed on Ye Hua with fiery eyes, wishing he could flay him right then and there. However, this was not the time for rage. What mattered most was that Ye Mo knew everything—yes, everything. With that in mind, Ye Wuya hurried to offer an explanation.

"Father, it's not necessary. It's no big deal. I've known about these matters since I was five. Yes... I knew it all. Ye Chen let it slip during a fight with me three years ago." Ye Mo's expression shifted from gloom to a mischievous grin directed at one of the children in the third row.

The child, visibly alarmed, avoided Ye Mo's gaze and quickly squeezed into the second row.

"Ye Chen! How did you come to know this? Out with it, I'm talking to you!" Ye Hua, upon hearing that Ye Mo had long been aware, flew into a rage and grabbed Ye Chen from among the children, berating him. Laughter then erupted from all around, not for any other reason but the fact that Ye Chen was Ye Hua's own son.

Ye Wuya and his daughter, Ye Qing'er, were the only ones not laughing. Yet, when they looked at Ye Mo, they caught him secretly chuckling.

Ye Qing'er couldn't help but laugh softly, teasingly remarking, "This silly boy, still finding a reason to smile at a time like this."

Ye Wuya observed all that transpired in silence. Yet, he saw that Ye Mo, a mere eight-year-old, was no longer the child he had presumed him to be. It turned out that all these years, he had been bearing such a burden, managing to live so lightheartedly. "Mo, your father is sorry." However, as Ye Wuya watched Ye Mo laugh, a touch of melancholy filled his heart.

"Enough, let's not forget our manners! Stop the commotion. Mo, close the door. We're about to begin the Soul Seed assessment." Ye Wuya maintained a stoic face, leaving it unclear whether his admonition about manners was aimed at the elders or the youngsters.

Sensing that Ye Wuya was on the verge of losing his temper, everyone in the room fell silent. Ye Hua released his grip on his son and cleared his throat with a dry cough before sheepishly retreating to his wide bench, his face flushed and without uttering another word.

With a creak, Ye Mo stopped his snickering, turned, and pushed the door shut. The large doors closed with a thud. He then turned back, looking left and right, but couldn't figure out where he was supposed to stand, so he hesitated at the door, not daring to move forward.

Ye Qing'er, noticing Ye Mo's bewildered behavior, cast a hopeful glance at Ye Wuya.

"You're just like everyone else, go... join the line," Ye Wuya instructed Ye Mo in a calm voice.

Ye Mo's brow furrowed, and in a voice still tinged with youth, he protested, "But I don't have the talent for soul cultivation, I..."

"Don't talk nonsense," Ye Wuya cut him off, his voice brooking no argument.

With no other choice, Ye Mo sulkily made his way to the end of the line and stood there quietly.

Ye Mo was actually quite familiar with this place, but he would never show up under such circumstances; he always sneaked in alone. The black pillar used for testing the Soul Seed had nearly been worn smooth by his touch. He was reluctant to come when so many were present because this was a place for those with the talent for soul cultivation to test their Soul Seeds. Ye Mo was self-aware, knowing he lacked the talent, so why embarrass himself in front of a crowd?

As the children readied themselves, Ye Wuya broke the silence with a measured tone, "I trust you all have some understanding of Soul Seeds. You are destined to be the pride of the Ye Family, and it's essential that I explain this in detail." After a brief cough and pause, he continued, "Soul Cultivators possess the power of the soul, which sets them apart from ordinary people. They wield immense strength, capable of shattering mountains or overpowering a man of great stature. Those with three souls and seven spirits are considered ordinary, lacking the talent for soul cultivation. Four souls and eight spirits indicate a basic Soul Seed with modest potential. With effort, one can still achieve a measure of success. This type of Soul Seed is quite common in the Godfall Land. Next are the five souls and nine spirits, a superior common Soul Seed, also not rare. Then there are the six souls and nine spirits, a mid-level Soul Seed, less common; seven souls and nine spirits, a high-level Soul Seed, exceedingly rare; and eight souls and nine spirits, a divine-level Soul Seed, the rarest of the rare... And then..."

"Let's just get on with the test. You're the only one here with five souls and nine spirits. No need to go on about it..." Ye Hua, who had been attentively listening to Ye Wuya, wore an embarrassed expression. In his view, having someone with five souls and nine spirits was already a blessing. He himself was merely a four souls and eight spirits, and he felt undervalued by the comparison.

Cough, cough...

Realizing he had gotten carried away, Ye Wuya cleared his throat and shifted his attention to a boy in the front row. "Ye Ming, you're up first."

The boy, about eight or nine years old, eagerly stepped forward, rubbing his hands together as he approached the black pillar with anticipation.

"Place your hand on the Wraithsense Stone and just watch it quietly," Ye Wuya instructed promptly.

"Understood, Uncle," the child replied, focusing intently on the black pillar before gently resting his palm upon it. Initially, the pillar, known as the Wraithsense Stone, showed no reaction, leaving the young onlookers baffled. However, Ye Wuya, Ye Hua, and the others remained as composed as fishermen waiting for a bite, unfazed by the stone's slow response.

After a short while, Ye Ming grew restless, perhaps even a bit fearful, and he glanced at Ye Wuya with a look of confusion.

At that moment, Ye Wuya commanded sharply, "Stay focused." Ye Ming promptly returned his attention to the Wraithsense Stone.

Buzz...

Suddenly, a humming sound filled the hall, emanating from the Wraithsense Stone, causing the dim light to flicker and dance to its rhythm.

Ye Wuya allowed himself a slight smile at the familiar spectacle, his gaze intently fixed on the Wraithsense Stone, eager for the extraordinary.

The humming continued unabated, and Ye Ming, appearing utterly exhausted, closed his eyes. As soon as his eyelids shut, something remarkable happened. Ye Ming suddenly lifted his head, and from his brow, eight wispy, white, transparent strands emerged, resembling billowing white robes suspended above him.