C4 The Soulless Ye Mo's Wraithsense Stone

"How about that? I've already advanced through the second level and now stand at the third level of Soul Forging. I am indeed a true Soul Cultivator now." The humming in the hall faded, and Nangong Xiaoyun, having reined in her seven souls and eight spirits, turned with a triumphant look on her face. She reveled in the attention.

Ye Hua inwardly cursed, blaming the unfairness of the heavens. He had been cultivating his soul for decades, yet he was only one level above this young girl compared to last year. He feared he might never make further progress in his lifetime.

Ye Wuya, however, had already snapped out of his initial surprise. He had silently chuckled at the irony before, but now he heartily laughed and addressed Nangong Xiaoyun, "Palace Master Xiaoyun, you've truly broadened our horizons."

With the title 'Palace Master Xiaoyun' from Ye Wuya, Nangong Xiaoyun's lips curled into a smile. "No worries," she responded.

Yet, Ye Mo felt a wave of discomfort from their exchange. He couldn't fathom how, despite her being the pavilion master's daughter, his own father, once so upright and honorable, could stoop to flatter a young girl so disingenuously.

After quietly observing the Wraithsense Stone opposite him for a moment, Ye Mo let out a sigh, shelving his concerns. He then addressed Ye Wuya with a decisive tone, "I'm leaving." Without masking his discontent, he turned and strode away.

"Wait a moment," Ye Wuya called out sternly, his voice as steady as ever while he watched Ye Mo's retreating figure.

Ye Mo paused just outside the door, yet he didn't turn back.

"Everyone else, leave. Ye Mo, stay behind. I have words for you," Ye Wuya commanded.

At his words, the crowd dispersed like the ebbing tide. Even Ye Hua and Ye Qing'er cast a brief glance at Ye Wuya before departing without further comment. Only Nangong Xiaoyun remained defiantly seated on a wide stool in the hall, making it clear she had no intention of leaving.

In an instant, only three people remained in the vast hall. Ye Mo stood outside the door, his back to his father, Ye Wuya, anticipating the forthcoming words of comfort. Such words seemed trivial to him. Over the years, he had pored over numerous secret texts and knew well that those born without a soul or spirit rarely lived past sixteen. Though rare, such cases existed, documented among ordinary people who all perished young. He was resigned to the fact that he, too, would die before reaching sixteen.

A brief silence was broken by a breeze that teased a strand of hair across Ye Mo's forehead, carrying a withered leaf to rest on his shoulder.

With a soft whoosh, Ye Mo blew the leaf away and turned to face Ye Wuya. He looked down, a wry smile on his youthful face. "Father, I'm aware my time is short. I had hoped to bring you joy in your final years, but it seems I can't."

Ye Wuya found his son's words oddly unsettling, yet he managed a faint smile in the gentle wind and stepped forward to grasp Ye Mo's hand.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the door behind them and said, "My Mo'er will be alright. That young lady over there might just be the help you need. You're not going to die, my son."

Tears welled in Ye Mo's eyes, but his father's words still struck him as peculiar. Lifting his gaze, he looked to Nangong Xiaoyun, seated comfortably on a broad bench.

Nangong Xiaoyun arched an eyebrow, her expression one of confusion. She was clueless about the father and son's intentions.

"Why haven't you left?" Ye Mo suddenly remembered his father's earlier instruction for everyone to depart, only now realizing that this imperious young woman had stayed behind.

"I simply don't feel like leaving yet, and when I do decide to go, you won't be able to stop me," Nangong Xiaoyun declared with a haughty air.

"Alright, alright, if you insist on staying, then stay," Ye Wuya said, feeling somewhat helpless in the face of the two children. He had a simple reason for wanting everyone else to leave: he was eager to see his own Mo'er, who possessed a spirit but no soul, test his Soul Seed on the Wraithsense Stone. He knew it was a reckless and almost laughable idea, but since he had cut Ye Mo from a corpse eight years ago and faced countless dangers without ever speaking of it to anyone—claiming to the outside world that he had merely found the boy—he had kept it a closely guarded secret. His affection for the boy was boundless, and even upon discovering that Ye Mo was soulless and his life might be short, Ye Wuya refused to give up. He firmly believed that his son was extraordinary and would not perish. It was for this reason that Ye Wuya felt it inappropriate to allow an outsider to witness the Wraithsense. But now...

"Mo'er, go ahead and try the Wraithsense Stone. Don't worry, it's just the three of us here," Ye Wuya said, casting a contemplative glance at Nangong Xiaoyun, who was seated beside him.

A gleam of determination shone in Ye Mo's eyes. The Wraithsense had been his only wish since he was young, and now he could openly and honorably pursue it, just as he had dreamt.

"May I?" Ye Mo turned and gazed up at Ye Wuya, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear that the offer might be retracted.

"Quit dawdling. I want to see how you'll attempt the Wraithsense without a soul," Xiaoyun interjected, her impatience getting the better of her before Ye Wuya could respond.

Ye Wuya, moved by Ye Mo's earnestness, allowed a warm smile to spread across his face.

Encouraged by this, Ye Mo no longer hesitated. He lifted his foot and fixed his gaze on the Wraithsense Stone, stepping forward. In that moment, he could hear the pounding of his own heart.

Inhale... Exhale...

Approaching the familiar Wraithsense Stone, Ye Mo took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He extended his not-so-large right hand and gently pressed it against the cool surface of the stone.

Inhale... Exhale...

Mimicking those who had come before him, Ye Mo gazed at the Wraithsense Stone, deep in contemplation. Each breath he took echoed in the vast, empty hall, sounding as if someone were breathing right next to his ear.

Buzz...

Moments later, the familiar hum once again filled the hall. Ye Wuya and Nangong Xiaoyun heard the sound; the former tensed up, while the latter showed only surprise.

Ah...

As the sound began, Ye Mo was suddenly overcome with a paralyzing sensation, his mind a void of either pain or pleasure. The noise that escaped Ye Mo's lips was indistinguishable as either a cry of agony or a sigh of ecstasy. But this was fleeting, and soon he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. His face, once calm, now contorted in pain as beads of sweat slid down his cheeks.

Ye Wuya, ever watchful from a distance, noticed Ye Mo's distress and his face twisted with concern and regret. Despite his remorse, he was powerless to intervene.

Nangong Xiaoyun also furrowed her brow, not because she saw any spirits emerge from his forehead, confirming what everyone suspected: Ye Mo was indeed without the eight spirits.

Ah...

Inside the Wraithsense, Ye Mo's youthful face twisted into a grimace, his features nearly contorting into one. Yet, after enduring the pain, he slowly relaxed his head, though his eyes remained shut. The persistent hum showed no signs of abating.

Watching the erratic dance of the candle flame, Ye Wuya's heart steadied briefly as he silently reassured himself, "At last, we've moved past the Soul Forging phase..."

Clearly, no spirits had manifested on Ye Mo's forehead. He must have bypassed that step, entering the true Wraithsense phase.

Hmm... Buzz... Buzz... Hmm...

For some reason, the candle's flicker grew more intense, threatening to snuff out at any moment, and the once familiar hum now took on an eerie, unnatural tone.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

At last, amidst the odd ambiance, shadowy figures resembling Ye Mo began to emerge slowly from within him.

The candlelight wavered, casting alternating shadows of light and dark. Amidst the flickering, Ye Wuya and Nangong Xiaoyun watched intently. "One, two, three..." Ye Wuya counted silently. Yet, even as the third figure materialized, the humming persisted, showing no sign of cessation.

In the dimly lit hall, a look of concern etched itself across Ye Wuya's face. He glanced at Nangong Xiaoyun, who was gazing at Ye Mo with an expression of curiosity, and his brow furrowed slightly. However, he soon relaxed. His right arm hung loosely at his side as his palm deftly formed a seal. A subtle glow escaped his grasp, darting swiftly into the darkness.

Silence.

All at once, the candles that had been flickering as if dancing with the wind snuffed out, yet it felt oddly appropriate in the moment.

"What's going on?!" Nangong Xiaoyun's interest, piqued by the candles, turned to irritation at their abrupt extinction. She wanted to speak out, but the words were trapped in her heart, unsaid. The reason was simple: Ye Wuya had his hand firmly over her mouth. A gentle voice whispered in her ear, "Don't speak. You'll scare away his soul..."

The humming persisted. With Ye Wuya's caution in mind, Nangong Xiaoyun recalled the taboo and gave a slight nod. Only then did Ye Wuya remove his hand. In the pitch-black hall, they could see nothing.

Perhaps they had grown accustomed to the light before, but now they were becoming accustomed to the darkness. Using the faint light seeping through the door, they could barely make out the unfolding events.

Peering towards the source of the eerie hum, their vision was somewhat obscured, yet Ye Wuya and Nangong Xiaoyun could still make out the scene clearly.

"Hiss... Seven souls!"

The sight that came into focus left them both shocked. Seven dark figures flanked Ye Mo on either side. Yet, the presence of these seven souls did not halt the Wraithsense Stone's hum; the Wraithsense remained unresolved.

Then, a shadow detached from Ye Mo's body, followed by another figure of the same stature emerging. These nine figures stood with their backs to Ye Wuya and Nangong Xiaoyun.

Swallowing hard, their throats felt parched as they beheld the nine souls before them. Though devoid of spirits, the sight was still astonishing. Ye Wuya's eyes flickered with emotion, and he turned to look at Nangong Xiaoyun, a trace of bitterness washing over him.

Hmm! Buzz...

Out of nowhere, the bizarre situation escalated! The eerie low-frequency hum turned piercingly sharp, causing the entire hall to shake violently. The Wraithsense Stone even started to emit a cracking noise, as if it were on the brink of shattering at any moment.