When the students returned to Baoli Zong, they lined up one by one before the Masters to present the spirits they had captured.
First came Feng Yangguang and Wu Ziyi, who revealed seven spirits sealed within their enchanted containers—earning words of praise from the onlookers.
Next were Bai Linyan and Bai Chengxing, bringing five spirits. Chengxing stood tall and proud, while Linyan remained calm and composed.
Mo Yuming, as usual, placed her container down with arrogance, inside it eight spirits, while Dushen bowed silently in respect.
But when it was Mei'yin and Qin Yuxi's turn, what they presented was unlike the others.
Instead of a container glowing with captured spirits, Mei'yin carried in her arms a black bird with glowing red eyes.
The brows of several Masters furrowed in confusion.
"What is that you've brought, Lady Feng Mei'yin?"
"Useless…" Bai Chengxing muttered under his breath, disbelief written all over his face.
Mei'yin bowed low.
"I did not capture a spirit as was required," her voice was clear. "But neither could I abandon this creature to suffer."
The courtyard fell silent. Even the wind seemed to pause.
The bird stirred faintly in her arms, its red eyes flashing—almost as if it understood her words.
Qin Yuxi stepped forward, his tone cold but steady. He placed down his own container, filled with ten spirits.
"With Lady Feng's unusual senses, it was far easier for us to track and capture the spirits."
Whispers rippled among the students. Bai Linyan blinked, Chengxing shook his head, while Yuming let out a small laugh, mocking in tone.
The Masters exchanged long, unreadable looks.
Then it was Qin Yijun and Feng Lingxi's turn. Together they presented five spirits, Yijun flashing a grin while Lingxi maintained his usual serious composure.
After them, the other students stepped forward one by one, each displaying the number of spirits they had managed to capture, their results ranging from two to six.
The courtyard was soon filled with the murmurs of comparison, pride, and envy. Yet all eyes still lingered on Mei'yin, cradling the wounded black bird, and Yuxi standing silently at her side.
The great hall of Baoli Zong was dim, the lantern light flickering softly across the carved beams. Headmaster Xie Huang sat in silence, hands folded before him, as the four clan Masters gathered in a circle.
For a while, no one spoke—each waiting for the other to begin.
At last, Master Feng Lei broke the stillness, his deep voice echoing like thunder.
"The trial revealed many things. Some showed strength, some precision, some restraint. Each of our children displayed not only their skill, but the heart they carry."
Master Bai Yue's expression was sharp, her tone clipped.
"Skill and heart are not the same. Sentiment may slow the hand. When tested against true danger, kindness will not preserve life."
Master Qin Jian, arms crossed, spoke with steady calm.
"And yet, instinct is not weakness. One does not always win battles through raw force. Sometimes awareness, subtlety, and trust in one's partner are what carry victory."
A faint smile curved Master Mo Xiang's lips, though his eyes gleamed with calculation.
"Each child has their own way. Some fight as though they must dominate the field, others listen for what cannot be seen. Some mock, some sulk, some soar. None are flawless, but none are without merit."
The air grew heavier, tension humming like a taut string.
Finally, Headmaster Xie Huang lifted his hand, his voice low but firm.
"You speak of strength. You speak of weakness. But what I see is balance."
His gaze swept slowly across the hall.
"Force alone cannot lead. Neither can compassion alone. Precision falters without instinct, and instinct fails without discipline. What matters is not which child surpasses the other… but how, together, they will shape the generations to come."
Silence followed.
Even Master Bai Yue, though her eyes remained cool, inclined her head slightly. Master Feng Lei grunted in agreement, while Master Qin Jian and Master Mo Xiang exchanged unreadable looks.
At last, Xie Huang's words sealed the gathering:
"The trial is finished. The spirits were caught. But the greater test has only just begun."
The sun was already dipping low, painting the rooftops of Baoli Zong in gold, when Ye Dushen finally sought out his sister. He found Ms. Ye (Ye Dohua) in one of the quieter courtyards, her hands busy sorting herbs laid out on a low table. Despite the serene scene, her eyes were sharp as always—ever calculating.
Dushen bowed respectfully.
"Sister."
Dohua looked up, her expression softening at the sight of him. " Ye shen. You've stayed longer than I expected. Why are you still here? You are needed in our residence."
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer. "Before the dust settles… I will return. I only lingered because of Mei'yin. She begged me to stay and join the lessons here. It seemed harmless, and I had time."
Dohua's brow arched slightly, though no judgment passed her lips. She simply studied him, reading the truth in his voice the way she always did.
Dushen straightened, meeting her gaze. "I will go back before long. I only wanted to make sure Mei'yin is well…."
The wind rustled through the bamboo trees, carrying the sounds of distant disciples training. For a moment, the siblings stood in quiet understanding, neither pressing further.
At last, Ms. Ye gathered the herbs into her case, her tone soft but edged with finality.
"Then go, when the time feels right. But remember, Dushen—our family cannot afford shadows to linger."
Dushen bowed again, his voice steady.
"I understand, Sister. Before dust, I will return."
Ye Dushen walked toward the grand gates of Baoli Zong, the weight of duty settling onto his shoulders. In his arms, the small box of herbs and medicines seemed heavier than it was. He paused briefly, turning to see Mei'yin standing a few steps behind him, eyes wide and hopeful.
"Ye shen…" she said softly, stepping closer. "Are you… really leaving?"
He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "I have duties waiting at our residence. I cannot stay longer… though I wanted to."
Mei'yin's shoulders slumped slightly, but her voice held a gentle firmness. "Thank you for staying. For teaching me… and for being here."
Dushen's gaze softened. "It was my choice. You made it hard to leave, Mei'yin."
She bit her lip, then whispered, almost like a secret, "I hope… you come back soon."
He gave her a fleeting nod, then stepped through the gates. As the heavy wooden doors began to close behind him, a familiar figure appeared—Mo Yuming, leaning casually against the gatepost with her usual mischievous smirk.
Yuming drawled, her eyes glinting, "leaving already? And all alone?"
Dushen stopped mid-step, meeting her gaze. Something in her eyes made the playfulness fade. For a heartbeat, he felt the subtle shift—the teasing replaced by scrutiny.
"I… I must leave," he said firmly, adjusting the strap of his medicine box. "There is no reason to linger."
Yuming pushed off from the post, stepping closer, her voice softening but still teasing. "You've been here for days, teaching her, spending time with her… Don't tell me there's nothing more to it?"
Dushen's jaw tightened, but he met her gaze evenly. "She is a remarkable student, and a remarkable girl. My admiration for her is not something to be twisted."
Yuming studied him for a long moment, then tilted her head, a faint smile returning. "Hmph. Admirable…."
With that, she stepped aside, letting him pass through the gates. Dushen took a deep breath, the sun dipping behind the mountains as he walked away, leaving Baoli Zong—and Mei'yin—behind for now.
In the depths of the Ye Xuan territory, a heavy silence hung over the compound—thick, almost suffocating. Yet that silence was not permanent. Soon, it would be shattered.
Ye Xuan, shrouded in a dark, menacing aura, stood tall amidst the flickering shadows. Beside him, his son Ye Yubao surveyed the assembled spirits and loyal subordinates, his gaze sharp and calculating. The air vibrated with a palpable sense of anticipation, as if the land itself knew of the impending storm.
In a swift and decisive move, Su Yeng had captured Ye Shanying, restraining him with iron chains. The young man struggled briefly, but the chains held firm, ensuring he could no longer deliver news or warnings to the loyal factions of the Ye.
Ye Xuan's lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "Let them think the we are defeated… let them bask in their false peace," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "But soon… they will see the true power of those who wait in the shadows."
Ye Yubao stepped forward, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. "Father, the loyal Ye… they will not expect this."
"Exactly," Ye Xuan replied, his eyes glinting like black flames. "The longer they remain unaware, the sharper the strike when it comes. Prepare the spirits. Ensure there is no chance of escape."
The gathered forces bowed, and the black aura thickened, twisting around the estate like a living thing. The stillness of the night seemed to recoil, sensing the menace that had returned—a shadow that would not be ignored.
Ye Dushen arrived at the Ye residence as the sun began its descent, long shadows stretching across the courtyard. His steps were steady, but the unease in the air made each movement feel heavier than usual.
Inside, the household was tense. Faces were pale, and murmurs ran quietly through the hallways. Even the servants felt the weight of uncertainty.
Dushen entered the main hall. His sister, Ms. Ye, was away in Baoli Zong, serving as Master Lei's personal doctor, leaving him to bear the news.
He addressed the gathered family and loyal retainers. "We have not received any reports from Ye Shanying for several days. No messages, no updates… nothing."
A murmur ran through the hall. Dushen continued, his voice calm but firm, "This silence is unusual. Something is wrong."
One of the senior retainers stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Some of the villagers are falling ill. Even our herbal medicines cannot cure them. The sickness spreads too quickly."
Dushen's eyes narrowed. "This is no coincidence. Ye Xuan has returned."
A heavy silence fell. The servants exchanged worried glances, realizing the threat had grown beyond whispers.
Dushen straightened his shoulders, his jaw firm. "We cannot wait. Every loyal member of the Ye must be vigilant. Prepare defenses, organize patrols, and gather intelligence. The Bad Ye will not give us time to recover, and we must act before the situation worsens."
The courtyard was still as a cold wind rustled through the gates, carrying with it a sense of impending danger.
Before Dushen could organize a proper response, a commotion erupted outside the main hall. Shouts, cries, and the clatter of wooden tools and weapons echoed across the courtyard.
He rushed toward the source, heart pounding. The sight that greeted him was chaotic: Ye Yubao, posing as a cousin to some of the villagers, moved among a group of rough men led by Su Yeng. Their presence alone radiated menace.
Villagers scrambled in panic, trying to defend themselves with farming tools and whatever they could grab. Children cried, women screamed, and a few brave men attempted to hold their ground—but it was hopeless against the organized aggression of Ye Yubao's group.
Dushen's eyes blazed with fury. "Stop this at once!" His voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding.
Ye Yubao froze for a moment, smirking as he feigned innocence. "Ah, Dushen… you always arrive just in time to ruin the fun."
Su Yeng stepped forward, sneering. "Master Ye, it seems the villagers are less cooperative than expected. Shall we teach them obedience?"
Dushen's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, though he did not draw it immediately. Calm yet lethal, he surveyed the scene. "You will leave this place immediately, or you will answer for every injury you cause today."
The men hesitated. Ye Yubao's smirk faltered slightly under Dushen's unwavering gaze.
A small group of villagers began to rally around Dushen, emboldened by his presence. Even in fear, they sensed his authority.
Ye Yubao laughed, but there was tension beneath it. "This isn't over, Dushen. We will not be thwarted so easily."
With a quick signal, Su Yeng and the men retreated, dragging Ye Yubao along. The courtyard fell silent, save for the heavy breaths of the villagers and the distant wind rustling through the gates.
Dushen's eyes followed them until they disappeared beyond the walls. He turned back to the villagers, his voice firm but reassuring. "You are safe… for now. But prepare yourselves. The storm is only beginning."
The morning sun rose over the Ye residence, casting long shadows across the courtyards. In the quiet of his study, Dushen sat with a carefully sealed scroll in hand. After the chaos of yesterday, he knew action needed to be swift.
He dipped his brush in ink, his strokes precise as he composed the message to the four masters of Baoli Zong: Master Lei, Master Jian, Master Xiang, and Master Yue. The words were concise yet urgent.
To the esteemed Masters,
A threat from the Bad Ye faction has escalated. Villagers near the Bad Ye territories are falling ill, and herbal remedies are failing. Additionally, their agents, led by Ye Yubao, have already clashed with our people. Immediate attention and coordination are required.
Please advise on protective measures and reinforce the borders if necessary.
Ye Dushen
Once sealed, Dushen instructed a trusted messenger to deliver copies to each Master immediately.
By midday, replies began arriving, each varying in tone: concern, strategy, and orders to monitor the situation closely. Some expressed relief at Dushen's swift communication, while others were already preparing contingencies.
Even as he read the responses, Dushen's thoughts remained on the villagers and the missing Ye Shanying. The lack of information from him for days gnawed at him—his absence was a glaring vulnerability.
Outside the hall, villagers moved cautiously, still shaken by the previous day's chaos. Dushen's presence gave them courage, but the unease in the air was palpable. He knew the days ahead would require vigilance, cunning, and the unity of all the masters.
Inside the stately Fengming Hall, the four masters gathered around a polished wooden table. The morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor. Ye Dushen stood quietly near the entrance, the scrolls from the Ye household laid neatly before the masters.
The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken urgency. No names were dropped—only facts, strategy, and concern.
Master Lei broke the silence first, her tone calm but firm. "The villages under our watch have reported sudden illness among the people. Our herbs and remedies are insufficient without knowing the root cause. Immediate investigation is required."
Master Jian, his posture precise, nodded. "We must also secure the villagers and ensure no further chaos reaches the surrounding areas."
Master Yue, composed as ever, added, "The report from Dushen shows strategic precision. Even without direct confrontation, their actions threaten both the villagers and the stability of the region. We must respond with caution and unity."
Ye Dushen bowed slightly. "I will coordinate reconnaissance and protective teams. The Ye residence has been compromised, and the villagers cannot defend themselves effectively. My knowledge of their territory may prevent further disaster."
Master Lei leaned forward. "Disperse scouts immediately. Protect the villages. No one moves alone. The four of us must act as one—our clans' unity is paramount."
Master Xiang's voice was sharp. "Ensure our younger members remain safe. Training may wait. Observation and defense come first."
Master Yue tapped the table decisively. "Remember: every move counts. Any lapse, any underestimation, could have consequences we cannot reverse. The cohesion of our clans is our strongest weapon."
Ye Dushen nodded, his resolve firm. Though he had come expecting to return to his residence, he understood why his presence here was vital. For the villagers, for the Ye family, and for the larger balance, he would remain at Fengming Hall—at least for now.
Outside, the winds stirred, carrying a sense of impending trouble. Somewhere beyond the walls, the forces at the Ye residence prepared their next moves.
Ye Dushen's steps were steady as he approached his residence, the evening sun casting long shadows over the compound. His mind replayed the meeting at Fengming Hall, strategies, and contingencies, unaware that a storm had already arrived at his doorstep.
The gates stood slightly ajar. A strange silence hung in the air, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. His eyes narrowed. Something was off.
Dushen's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. "This isn't right," he muttered under his breath.
Before he could investigate further, a single figure stumbled out from behind the main hall—a young man, panting, his robes torn and dust-covered.
"Master… Ye Dushen…" the man gasped, collapsing to his knees.
Dushen's eyes sharpened immediately. "Speak. What happened here?"
The man swallowed hard, struggling to catch his breath. "Ye Yubao… he attacked… he captured everyone… all of them… only I managed to escape…"
Dushen's jaw tightened, the calm composure of the man he was known for hardening into controlled fury.
Hours passed in tense silence. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across Ye Dushen's residence, when finally a familiar figure approached at a brisk pace. Ms. Ye arrived, her brow furrowed with worry, her steps hurried.
She had received the same troubling news but had not yet spoken of it to the Masters. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene—overturned cages, scattered belongings, and the single exhausted messenger slumped against the wall.
" Ye shen…" she breathed, her voice tight with concern.
Dushen met her gaze, the fire of determination simmering in his calm eyes. "I haven't told the Masters yet," he said quietly.
Without hesitation, they set off toward Ye Xuan's territory, moving with the precision of those accustomed to danger. The closer they drew, the heavier the air became, tinged with smoke and faint traces of blood.
When the gates of Ye Xuan's domain came into view, their worst fears were confirmed. Guards and villagers alike were either missing, caged, or left bruised and shaken. And there, amidst the chaos, stood the young man—Ye Shanying—his hands bound, exhaustion and fear etched across his face.
Ms. Ye's steps faltered for a brief moment, a flash of anger and protectiveness crossing her features. "Shanying…" she whispered.
Dushen's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. "Stay calm. We get him out."
Every shadow could conceal an enemy, every sound a signal of danger. But the sight of Shanying, alive but captive, steeled their resolve.
"Hold on, Shanying," Dushen murmured, his voice low but firm. "We're here. You won't stay a prisoner much longer."
Ms. Ye nodded, her usual calm replaced with a rare intensity.