C8 The Last Hope of Second Realm Forest

The next day, the sun was already high in the sky, nearing noon. Ye Mo lay quietly in an obscure little room.

"Please come in..."

"What can I get for you?"

The clamor jolted Ye Mo awake, and he sat up in bed, listening intently for a moment.

"I'm still in this tavern..." he muttered with a light sigh. Rising to his feet, he strode to the door, opened it, and stepped out.

"Hey, isn't that the Ye family's young master? I heard you got into a fight here yesterday. You're tougher than you look."

At that moment, Ye Mo had been resting in a secluded room on the second floor. As soon as he made his appearance, he was recognized, and oddly enough, everyone seemed to echo the same taunting tone.

With an indifferent expression, Ye Mo's thoughts lingered on the girl from the day before, but he was abruptly snapped back to reality by the man's comment. It was as if something clicked, and he called out to the bustling waiter, "Waiter, where's my sword?"

"Hmm?" The waiter paused, taken aback.

"Whoa, Ye Mo's out for blood. He must've gotten his bell rung yesterday. Better to keep our mouths shut."

The tavern's patrons tensed up at the mention of Ye Mo searching for his sword; it's always wise to steer clear of trouble. The man who had mocked Ye Mo a moment earlier paled and quietly took a seat, not daring to utter another word.

Ye Mo's expression held a trace of intrigue. He wasn't after his sword to harm anyone; he simply needed it to return home. Surely he couldn't just leave his sword behind?

"You didn't pawn my treasured sword, did you?" Ye Mo pressed, seeing the waiter frozen in place. He had no desire to elaborate further. By the time he finished speaking, Ye Mo had descended the stairs and approached the waiter.

The waiter was somewhat acquainted with Ye Mo, accustomed to gossiping behind his back and sharing a joke to his face, but he had never seen Ye Mo quite like this. In a flurry, the waiter dashed behind the counter and handed Ye Mo the longsword that had accompanied him upon arrival, "Here... I didn't pawn it."

Taking the longsword, Ye Mo spared no further words, dropped some coins on the table, and left the tavern. As he made his way home, a wild idea began to take shape in his mind.

Ye Mo arrived at the Ye family mansion at his usual leisurely pace, the route as familiar as ever. Inside, everything was as it always had been; no one seemed concerned that Ye Mo hadn't returned the previous night—perhaps no one had even noticed his absence.

"Ugh!"

Out of nowhere, Ye Mo's body shook violently as an excruciating pain surged through his organs. He instinctively curled up, his face contorted in agony. A familiar warmth trickled from the corner of his mouth and nostrils as a stream of blood flowed slowly.

His throat tasted sweet and metallic, a sensation he couldn't contain. Opening his mouth, he violently coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Phew…" Having expelled the blood, Ye Mo's pain subsided slightly. He reached into his pocket out of habit, searching for the handkerchief that had long since become an afterthought.

"Huh?"

Straightening up, he uttered a soft sound of confusion; his white handkerchief, a companion for many years, was nowhere to be found. "That doesn't make sense! How could I lose it?" Panic set in as Ye Mo frantically checked inside his collar, but the handkerchief remained elusive.

"Huff…" It must have been left behind yesterday, surely lost by now. Ye Mo was so distraught that he nearly stripped off half his clothes in his search, yet the handkerchief was still missing. His mind was haunted by the blurred image of a little girl, her face innocent and whimsical, smiling at him and offering her white handkerchief to dab away his nosebleed... It all seemed like yesterday, but since then, Ye Mo had never seen her again, and now he had lost that handkerchief.

"Mo, you didn't come back last night."

At that moment, Ye Wuya saw Ye Mo, his clothes tattered and stained with blood, and quickly approached with a look of grave concern.

"Hmm?" Ye Mo looked up to see his father, Ye Wuya, and muttered to himself before shaking his head, "I had too much to drink yesterday and ended up sleeping at the tavern. Don't worry, Dad."

"What happened to you? Is your chest hurting again?" Ye Wuya was well aware of his son's health issues. Seeing the bloodstains and the tattered state of Ye Mo's clothes, his heart ached, and his stern facade melted away. With a gentle voice, he softly inquired.

Ye Mo hastily wiped the blood from his face and the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, straightened his clothes, and said cheerfully, "Dad, it's not what you're thinking. I was just searching for something and ended up getting myself all dirty, hehe..."

"Searching for something? Did you lose your handkerchief?"

True to a father's intuition, Ye Wuya had pinpointed exactly what Ye Mo was looking for, though his voice carried a heavy note of resignation.

Ye Mo gasped in surprise, staring at his father with bewilderment. "Don't tell me, you went to that little tavern last night? You found my handkerchief!" The thought made Ye Mo anxious, fearing that his altercation with Huang Ergou the previous day had been revealed.

"Foolish boy, what would I be doing at the tavern? You're so detached, yet you cling to that handkerchief, carrying it with you every day. You've washed it countless times over the years but refuse to replace it. Now, with your mouth all bloody, you still won't clean it properly. It's been years since I've seen you in such a state," Ye Wuya said, turning away, unable to bear looking at his son.

Relieved by his father's words, Ye Mo managed a wry smile. "Dad, you truly have a gift for seeing things."

"Enough with the flattery, just go and clean yourself up."

"Okay..." Ye Mo murmured, heading towards his study.

Once Ye Mo was out of sight, Ye Wuya turned back, his gaze falling on the still-warm blood on the ground and then to Ye Mo's frail silhouette. A touch of red welled up in the corners of his eyes, and a pang of sorrow struck his heart. "This child... I fear he may not last much longer. My poor Mo."

Meanwhile, Ye Mo, who had walked away, was wrestling with his thoughts. He had so often wanted to stop and share his hidden troubles with his father, but he had always refrained from speaking up.

"Ye Mo!"

Out of the blue, Ye Wuya called out loudly to his son, who was moving further away. Ye Mo stopped in his tracks, puzzled. "This is the first time Dad has called me by my full name." He paused, then turned back to face Ye Wuya with a look of uncertainty.

"After you've cleaned up, pack a few sets of clean clothes and come with me to the Second Realm Forest. Would you like that?" Ye Wuya called out to Ye Mo with a booming voice.

Ye Mo's eyes sparkled with excitement. He was no stranger to the Second Realm Forest, having read about it in various tomes and heard countless rumors. It was a place beyond the human world, teeming with Soul Beasts of every rank, the miraculous Wraithroot that could enhance one's Soul Seed, and advanced Soul Weapons left behind by formidable Soul Cultivators. These thoughts rekindled the passion in Ye Mo's heart, which had been dormant for years. "Yes! I'll go... just wait for me!"

In a flurry, Ye Mo dashed to his study, the words of the mysterious woman who had saved his life the previous night echoing in his head. Indeed! She was headed to the Second Realm Forest as well. A sudden realization struck him: the woman who had once used a handkerchief to wipe his blood as a child must have been her, given the unique scent that lingered around her.

The Second Realm Forest was the nearest wilderness to Strihgan City, which served as the gateway to this enigmatic forest. Known as the most mysterious place in Godfall Land, it was the coveted destination for countless Soul Cultivators seeking the ultimate adventure. Despite its perils, every warrior aspired to venture there. While some met their demise in its vast expanse, others found treasures that brought them eternal fame. This was the Second Realm Forest, Ye Mo's birthplace.

By the time afternoon arrived, and after much prodding from Ye Mo, Ye Wuya took only him on the carriage. As the Ye family members looked on, they departed slowly into the bright sunlight.

Before setting off, Ye Wuya had inquired if any of the sect's disciples wished to embark on this journey. Yet, all the children were closely guarded by their parents, none of whom were willing to send their offspring to such a savage place, perhaps believing they weren't yet ready for such trials.

As the carriage dwindled into the distance, Ye Qing'er was overcome with mixed emotions. She yearned to join the journey, but her father forbade it, insisting she needed to stay and look after the home, as it could not be left without a guardian.

Everyone in the Ye family, including Ye Qing'er, was painfully aware that Ye Mo, who possessed a soul but lacked a spirit, would never return. Next month marked Ye Mo's 16th birthday, his coming-of-age celebration, and there was a real possibility that he might not even survive the treacherous journey. Even if by some miracle Ye Mo survived, he was unable to cultivate his soul, leaving his fate uncertain. He was destined to be expelled from the Ye family. In this light, Ye Wuya's actions seemed to be a final attempt to create lasting memories for Ye Mo. As Ye Qing'er contemplated this, tears streamed down her cheeks.

Ye Wuya continued his journey westward, having left the city of Strihgan behind and now traversing a verdant forest.

His mind was a whirlwind of worry and restlessness, much like the Ye family had predicted. The only new piece of information was a rumor he had heard: the Specter and his House of the Chosen were set to emerge from the Second Realm Forest on that very day to recruit disciples. This news was typically reserved for the elite offspring of major sects. The Specter was an enigmatic and renowned powerhouse throughout Godfall Land, his Soul Seed and the extent of his power shrouded in mystery. All that was known was his fame, which had been established for centuries. Moreover, every disciple who emerged from the House of the Chosen held a place among the ranks of the strong.

With these thoughts in mind, Ye Wuya glanced back at Ye Mo, who had unknowingly succumbed to sleep amidst the carriage's jostling. A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought, "Although this hope is so faint it's almost negligible, even if we were to encounter the Specter himself, it's doubtful he would have a solution..."

*Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!*

A bizarre squawk snapped Ye Wuya out of his reverie. Focusing his gaze, he saw an enormous crow diving straight for him, its eyes gleaming with a green light.

"Troublemaker!" Ye Wuya exclaimed, channeling his Soul Power into his palm and slicing through the air with his hand as if wielding a longsword.

Whoosh!

The large crow expelled a stream of blood, which splattered beside Ye Wuya as he steered the carriage.