C6 Ye Mo's Engagement

Ye Mo's health was slowly improving. His former companions, once not particularly close, now strutted around full of pride after mastering Wraithsense. They had acquired the secret techniques of Soul Cultivators and received guidance from their mentors, setting their sights very high. Even though Ye Mo was the son of the family patriarch, they regarded him as little more than a servant sweeping the doorstep – merely a mortal in their eyes.

Ye Wuya was preoccupied with various affairs all day, while Ye Qing'er dedicated herself to advancing her cultivation. Possessing both five souls and nine spirits, Qing'er confided to Ye Mo that she had reached the pinnacle of the second Soul Forging realm and was on the verge of breaking through to the third. She claimed that one only became a true Soul Cultivator upon entering the Soul Forging realm. However, Ye Mo felt lost in a fog, as he lacked the heart technique of a Soul Cultivator.

Nangong Xiaoyun from Wind Pavilion had also departed the Ye family last month. Although Ye Mo had little interaction with her, her presence meant someone to converse with. Now, within the walls of this so-called family of Soul Cultivators, Ye Mo felt an overwhelming sense of desolation, feeling like an outsider without needing anyone to tell him so.

"Bam... Gulp..."

Next to the Ye family's courtyard pond, a pebble caused ripples to spread across the water. The area around the pond was deserted, save for a few sparrows chattering in the trees. A solitary figure, the young master Ye Mo, sat in silence on a smooth, round bluestone. His thoughts, hidden from the world, were his own.

Cough, cough, cough...

Suddenly, Ye Mo clutched his chest, coughing violently. Drops of fresh blood fell into the pond, delighting the small fish that darted about energetically.

Ye Mo pulled a bloodstained white handkerchief from his chest, dabbed at the corners of his mouth, and carelessly shoved it back. He picked up another stone, tossed it into the water, and lapsed back into a daze.

"Hey, Ye Mo, I knew I'd find you here. Come on, we need to get back. Someone important has requested to see you!"

Lost in thought, Ye Mo was jolted back to reality by the hurried approach of a figure in the distance. It was Ye Chen. As Ye Chen drew nearer, Ye Mo's curiosity piqued. "Does this kid know me? He should have known me before..."

"What's the matter?" Ye Mo asked, his voice devoid of interest despite Ye Chen's evident excitement.

Panting heavily, Ye Chen managed to catch his breath before blurting out with enthusiasm, "Nangong... Nangong Xiaoyun has arrived..."

"Oh..." Ye Mo cut him off, his tone nonchalant. Nangong Xiaoyun's visit didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary to him.

But Ye Chen, growing impatient, pressed on, "Would you just listen? Her father, the Master of Wind Pavilion, Nangong Si, and the other senior members are all here too!"

Ye Mo's heart skipped a beat. The news sent a shockwave through him, accompanied by a crushing pressure. Others might be clueless, but he was well aware that Nangong Xiaoyun must have revealed his use of Wraithsense.

Seeing Ye Mo's stunned silence, Ye Chen urged, "Hey, snap out of it! Say something, will you?"

"Let's go." Resigned to the worst, Ye Mo realized his time was running short. With nothing left to fear, he followed Ye Chen towards the main hall.

Before long, Ye Mo's dazed state would be the least of his concerns, as the Ye family was about to experience its most significant upheaval in centuries.

Inside the Ye family's main hall, two figures occupied the wide chairs atop the dais. One was the familiar face of Nangong Xiaoyun, and the other, a middle-aged man donning a purple robe, exuded an air of undeniable authority. This man was likely Nangong Si, the Master of Wind Pavilion.

"Wuya, has your son Ye Mo arrived yet?" inquired the man.

Ye Wuya, standing at the foot of the dais with a stern expression, replied, "I've sent someone to fetch him. He should be here shortly. Please, Pavilion Master, a moment of your patience."

Nangong Si's expression of impatience diminished slightly as he turned to his daughter, Nangong Xiaoyun, and questioned, "Is that really true? I find it hard to believe..."

"You don't trust me? Then who would you trust?" Nangong Xiaoyun couldn't stand being doubted, not even by her own father.

After all, very few people were privy to Ye Mo's ten souls. The hall was crowded, and upon hearing the exchange between father and daughter, most attendees exchanged puzzled glances, not understanding the situation. Only Ye Wuya's face turned sour; he dreaded the thought of them disclosing the matter publicly.

"Here he comes, here he comes!"

Ye Chen's voice announced his arrival from outside, as he and Ye Mo made their way towards the gathering.

Nangong Si's eyes brightened, a subtle gleam passing through them as he fixed his gaze on Ye Mo.

Upon entering, Ye Chen promptly knelt down, respectfully saying, "Junior Ye Chen of the Ye family pays his respects to the Pavilion Master of Wind Pavilion." He then covertly signaled Ye Mo with a glance.

Ye Mo, however, ignored the gesture and the words, standing tall and silent as he faced Nangong Si and Nangong Xiaoyun without uttering a word.

"This kid, not seen for over a month, seems to have developed some spine," Nangong Xiaoyun mused, giving Ye Mo a second look, though that was the extent of her acknowledgment.

"No need for such formalities. Rise, young one," Nangong Si said, his mood a mix of irritation and pleasure, which he had no intention of venting on a youngster.

"Well, now that everyone is here, I, Nangong Si, will get straight to the point..."

Ye Wuya, clueless and fearful that his secret might be exposed, looked increasingly distressed, almost desperate to cut off Nangong Si.

"Furthermore, Wuya, there's no need to worry. I am a man of my word. I understand the gravity of the matter and will not speak out of turn." Nangong Si said lightly, a smile playing on his lips at the sight of Ye Wuya's discomfort.

Ye Wuya naturally grasped the implied meaning of the words spoken to him. His expression slowly regained its usual serenity, yet he remained silent.

"Now, let's get down to business," Nangong Si began, pausing as if pondering his next words. Beside him, Nangong Xiaoyun looked on with a puzzled expression, uncertain of her father's intentions.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Nangong Si spoke up decisively, "If your son Ye Mo survives to see his sixteenth birthday, I will give him my only treasured daughter, Xiaoyun, in marriage."

A collective gasp filled the room as everyone processed the startling announcement. The hall erupted into a cacophony of murmurs and whispers. Ye Mo himself shuddered, struggling to believe the turn of events.

Caught off guard, Nangong Xiaoyun's anxiety spilled into words, "How could I possibly marry someone whose days might be numbered? Without a soul, what good are numerous spirits? If he can't cultivate his soul, he's nothing but a failure! I simply cannot agree!"

Her voice cut through the din before Nangong Si could even finish his sentence. Though she spoke lightly, her words landed like heavy blows to Ye Mo's heart, each one piercing deeply.

The shock of Nangong Xiaoyun's outburst was palpable, rivaling the initial surprise of her father's proposition. All eyes turned to Ye Mo, their expressions ranging from bemusement to outright mockery.

"Nangong Xiaoyun, you..." Ye Qing'er was there, her fury immediate and fierce. She was ready to defend Ye Mo, but before she could get her words out, Ye Mo tugged at her sleeve and pulled her behind him. Ye Qing'er fell silent, taken aback by the unexpected strength in his grip.

Ye Wuya watched Ye Mo, whose cheeks were tinged with embarrassment, feeling a heart-wrenching empathy. Despite the urge to intervene, he knew that arguing would be futile and only lead to further disgrace. The potential repercussions were too dire to contemplate.

"Outrageous! Silence yourself and apologize to Uncle Ye at once!" To everyone's surprise, Nangong Si lashed out at his daughter, Nangong Xiaoyun, with fury.

Nangong Xiaoyun, who hadn't seen her father lose his temper in quite some time, was both annoyed and frightened. She sulked, crossing her arms and turning her head away defiantly.

"My daughter lacks understanding; I blame myself for spoiling her. I will discipline her properly when we return. Brother Wuya, please don't take it to heart," Nangong Si said, glancing briefly at Ye Mo, whose expression remained impassive.

"Let's get back to the matter at hand. Since I've agreed to betroth my daughter to your son, I will certainly employ the best methods to ensure his survival. If he doesn't make it, then this marriage agreement is nothing but a jest. But if he does survive..."

"Then I owe a great debt to your family and your daughter. I will repay your generosity with the life I've fought to keep. Sounds fair! We're agreed," Ye Mo interjected, speaking deliberately.

Both Ye Mo and Ye Wuya could discern Nangong Si's motives. Whether it was ten souls or nine souls, if one survived and discovered the path of a Soul Cultivator, the outcome would be extraordinarily terrifying. It could even send shockwaves across the entirety of Godfall Land. How many possessors of nine souls could there be in all of Godfall Land? The worth of a nine souls expert was beyond measure.

A flicker of malice briefly crossed Nangong Si's eyes before he composed himself and spoke with gravity, "So it's decided. If you prove yourself capable, you're welcome to come to Wind Pavilion and claim my daughter as your bride after your sixteenth birthday." With that, Nangong Si rose to his feet, exchanged a respectful fist-and-palm salute with Ye Wuya, and, leading Nangong Xiaoyun and their retinue, walked past Ye Mo and out of the room.

As Ye Mo and Nangong Xiaoyun brushed shoulders, his gaze upon her was cool and detached, while her eyes conveyed undisguised loathing for him.

After everyone had departed, Ye Mo's complexion turned a deep shade of red, and he couldn't contain it any longer—a gush of fresh blood spurted from his mouth, drenching the white robe before him. The room was empty, save for Ye Mo himself. He had been the one to request that both his sister and father leave as well. Their absence confirmed that he was now utterly alone.

Tugging at the blood-red fabric, Ye Mo retrieved a bloodstained handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his mouth, and then tucked it back away. He let out a wry chuckle and muttered, "Heh... I bet you're full of regrets now, you old fox."