C7 The Tavern Disaster

After the scandalous engagement, the Ye family found themselves the talk of Strihgan City. Rumors flew that the dying Ye Mo had caught the eye of the Wind Pavilion's Master, who intended to betroth Nangong Xiaoyun to him once he came of age. This engagement became a favorite subject of gossip. There was one upside: the Ye family members were congratulated wherever they went, a gesture meant to be kind but one that left a bitter taste, for they knew all too well that Ye Mo's days were numbered. The marriage seemed a farce, and the Wind Pavilion neither confirmed nor approved it. It seemed as though the entire city was awaiting Ye Mo's death to put an end to this farce.

Since the engagement, Ye Mo, only eight years old, grew increasingly silent, his frail body wracked with pain and weakness, seemingly proving the cruel rule that those without a soul cannot withstand the trials of this world and are doomed to die in agony. But Ye Mo refused to resign himself to such a fate. He was determined to survive beyond his sixteenth birthday. Unable to cultivate his soul in the traditional way, he obtained a manual on soul cultivation from Ye Wuya and secluded himself in his study, his solitude only broken by the passage of years. Despite his frailty and frequent coughing of blood, Ye Mo miraculously defied the grim forecasts of physicians and seasoned Soul Cultivators alike. They all said, "This child won't live another month..." Yet Nangong Si of the Wind Pavilion never kept his promise, offering no assistance to Ye Mo. Perhaps he was too eager for Ye Mo's demise to consider lending aid.

Seven years passed in this way, and now at fifteen, Ye Mo sat in his study, his youthful appearance unchanged, his gaze distant. His features, however, were etched with resolve, his eyes shining with an unwavering light, betraying not a hint of pallor.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A sudden knock echoed at the door. Ye Mo turned with an air of indifference and casually inquired, "What's the matter?"

"Young Master, those individuals have returned today, insisting on seeing you. What should we do? Perhaps you should meet with them? They seem quite distinguished, not like the usual lot..." An elderly voice hesitated from outside, speaking slowly.

The person outside was Yang Yi, the Ye family's groundskeeper, and aside from Ye Mo, he was the only one without Soul Power.

"I won't see them. They've come to my home just to make a mockery of me." Ye Mo gently shook his head, setting aside his book with a wry smile.

"Fine, I'll handle it." Yang Yi, sounding somewhat irritated, turned and walked away.

Ever since the engagement debacle seven years ago, people had periodically visited the Ye family under the pretense of treating Ye Mo's illness, only to spout offensive remarks. Over time, Ye Mo had seen through their charade; these visitors were likely stooges sent by Wind Pavilion to provoke him to his demise.

"Haha!" With this realization, Ye Mo let out a hearty laugh, a glint of slyness passing through his eyes as he murmured to himself, "No rush. I'll marry you after my sixteenth birthday, then promptly die, leaving you a widow." Naturally, if Nangong Xiaoyun were to overhear such a statement, she would be furious enough to keel over.

Night had fallen, and despite the bright lights of Strihgan City, the streets remained desolate. A slender figure approached a modest tavern, a longsword in hand as he made his way inside.

"Ah, Young Master Ye, it's been ages! I was starting to think you'd met your end. Come now, have a seat over here." The moment the slender man entered, a jovial waiter rushed over to greet him with a teasing grin.

"I came here for a good time! Are you trying to spoil that for me?" The man was Ye Mo, and upon being mocked by the waiter, his expression turned stormy.

"I deserve death; my words were thoughtless. Please excuse me, Young Master. I spoke without thinking." The waiter, a shrewd man well-versed in dealing with various patrons, quickly adjusted his demeanor.

"A pound of beef and a jar of the finest wine." Ye Mo ordered with a dismissive flick of his lips. He then silently took a seat to wait for his order.

The waiter acknowledged with a hushed tone and scurried off to the kitchen.

Ye Mo frequented this modest tavern to enjoy a quiet drink and the occasional tune, a pastime encouraged by his father, Ye Wuya. Without this, Ye Mo's life would be confined to the pages of his books.

The night had deepened, leaving the tavern with just a handful of patrons, enveloped in tranquility. This serene atmosphere was precisely why Ye Mo chose to visit at such a late hour.

"Well, well, look who it is! If it isn't Ye Mo. How are you not dead yet?" At that moment, a figure jeered from the second floor, breaking the calm.

Ye Mo was no stranger to such taunts; they had been a backdrop to his life. The sparse crowd on the first floor glanced between the heckler and Ye Mo, choosing wisely to remain silent. A young woman, however, stood up in fury, ready to confront the offender, but was quickly calmed by her companion.

Ye Mo had noticed the girl but didn't dwell on it. Instead, he looked up with a grin and retorted, "And who might this be? Ah, Huang Ergou of the Huang family. I suppose I didn't beat you hard enough in our childhood, did I?"

"Ye Mo! You're on death's door and still so insolent. Do you realize I've reached the Soul Forging Realm? I could easily snuff you out with a mere flicker of my Soul Power." The youth, dubbed Huang Ergou by Ye Mo, seethed with rage, his wine pot shattering under a surge of invisible energy, signaling his readiness to strike.

"Don't try to intimidate me. Is the Huang family so eager to wage war against the Ye family?" Ye Mo dismissed the upstairs commotion, settled back into his seat, and began to calmly enjoy the freshly served meal and wine.

"Bastard!" The young man's fury ignited upon seeing Ye Mo's indifferent demeanor. Without a second thought, he swung his hand, sending an invisible wave of force crashing into Ye Mo's back with a vengeance.

Bang!

Unprepared and unversed in self-defense, Ye Mo was propelled three meters away by the force of the blow. He hit the ground hard, blood pouring from his mouth.

"How dare you!"

Yet, in that moment, Ye Mo's mind was remarkably lucid. "Is it finally time?" he wondered. Amidst his clarity, he faintly heard a woman's voice, seemingly standing up for him. On the brink of adulthood, Ye Mo marveled at his own resilience. The turmoil and complexity that had weighed on him began to fade beneath his heavy eyelids.

"Don't die!"

As Ye Mo's eyes were about to close, a pair of warm arms turned him over and pulled him into an embrace. Through the haze, he caught the scent of delicate flowers and, lifting his heavy lids, he saw a face of pure, untouched beauty looking back at him in astonishment.

"Who are you?" Ye Mo asked, even as he instinctively reached for the red handkerchief that had been his companion for years, wiping away the blood from his face and mouth as if the wounds were not his own.

The mysterious woman's brow furrowed at the sight of the bloodied handkerchief. She then produced an exquisite white porcelain bottle from her bosom, uncorked it, and a chill air wafted out. With a flick, a milky white pill fell into Ye Mo's mouth. "Humph, you barred me from seeing you today, and now look at you. What would you do without me?" she murmured under her breath.

The pill dissolved instantly, sending waves of cooling Qi throughout Ye Mo's organs, rapidly healing his bruises. Ye Mo caught snippets of the woman's muttering.

"I'm sorry about today... Haha, it's a complicated story," Ye Mo said, a newfound strength in his voice, thanks to the pill. He recalled Yang Yi mentioning something that morning as he swept the courtyard, and now, Ye Mo no longer sounded so feeble.

On my way to the Second Realm Forest, I happened upon this place and noticed many people discussing your affairs. Since we're the same age, curiosity led me to your home... It's quite sad, really. You're indeed a soul without a spirit. Your engagement to Nangong Xiaoyun seems more like a farce. What is Nangong Si up to? Perhaps you possess some exceptional quality." As Ye Mo showed signs of improvement, the woman's cheeks flushed, and she released Ye Mo from her embrace. She rose to her feet and spoke softly, her expression hidden from view.

Ye Mo, lying on the ground, released the red handkerchief from his grasp and glanced up at the second floor, only to find it deserted. Presumably, Yellow Dog had already made his escape.

"Thank you, miss, for your rescue. It seems I won't meet my end tonight," Ye Mo murmured, gazing at the haphazard wooden beams above.

The woman, clad in a flowing blue gown, glanced once more at the lifeless Ye Mo, shook her head gently, and proceeded to the door, a group of six or seven trailing behind her.

"I may not be able to return your favor, having wasted your pill," Ye Mo thought as the woman stepped out. A complex emotion welled up within him.

Pausing in her tracks, the woman stood silently for a moment before speaking over her shoulder, "If you understand the value of that pill, then live well and take Nangong Xiaoyun as your wife. Make something of yourself."

With a soft chuckle, Ye Mo held his peace. The pill's energy continued to work through him, leaving him weary. He let out a light grunt and, feeling more at ease, slowly closed his eyes. But just then, a sinister breeze whisked away the blood-stained handkerchief from Ye Mo's chest, depositing it right beside the mysterious woman who hadn't gone far.

The woman, spotting the blood-red handkerchief adorned with a once pure white lotus, now stained crimson, allowed a faint smile to cross her lips. She bent down, reaching to pick it up.

"Miss, why would you pick that up?" An attendant, upon witnessing the scene, displayed a look of disdain and attempted to intervene.

"Did I ask for your opinion?" The woman dismissed him, reaching down to pick up the object from the ground. Unconcerned with the dirt, she meticulously folded it and pressed it to her chest, indifferent to the astonished looks from the onlookers. With a determined step, she continued on her way.