Opening the door, Ling Ye stood at the entrance, quietly observing the interior of the house. He took a few steps inside, glancing left and right, wandering through the small space. Gradually, he began to familiarize himself with his new home.
As Zhou Wu had mentioned, the house wasn't particularly large, certainly not when compared to the mansion Ling Ye had once lived in. In terms of size, it was roughly equivalent to just one medium and one small room from his old home. It felt narrow, humble, and plain.
As he wandered through the modest space, a quiet sigh escaped his lips. He couldn't help but complain a little in his heart.
"So this is life now, huh…" he muttered under his breath, frustration and a hint of sadness rising in his chest.
But he shook those feelings off with another deep breath and turned to unpack his small bag.
Aside from the two extra sets of clothing he brought, there were only two other items inside, both given to him by Old Wang, and the only possessions he'd been allowed to take without question.
The first was an old, slightly worn oil lamp.
The second was a small, sheathed dagger.
Ling Ye stared at the two items in his hands. Though simple and unassuming, they carried sentimental weight. They had been gifts from Old Wang, birthday presents given to him when he was just three and four years old.
Though they weren't valuable in the eyes of others, to Ling Ye, they were precious reminders of a man he once saw as family.
The lamp, though it appeared plain and unremarkable, held a special significance. Ling Ye had always used it as a simple source of light, but he remembered what Old Wang had told him when gifting it, that the lamp would provide warmth when no one else was around and indeed, it had always done just that.
He also recalled asking Wang Xin about the lamp once. She explained that its flame had a calming effect on the mind and heart, making it ideal for beginner cultivators to meditate and begin their cultivation journey.
Thinking about the lamp's function and purpose made Ling Ye feel a pang of guilt. Old Wang must have given it to him in the hopes that he would one day become a cultivator.
But now... he was just a mortal. One who would never step onto the path of cultivation.
"Sigh..." Ling Ye let out a deep breath and tried to shake the thought away. Instead, he looked down at the sheathed dagger resting beside the lamp.
While not as extraordinary as the lamp, the dagger was special in its own way and now, perhaps even more useful.
It was a simple dagger, made from common light iron, but it had been enchanted to cut through nearly any mortal material. In some cases, it could even slice through low grade spiritual metals, though doing so would damage the blade. Still, the enchantment gave the dagger unique value.
Just thinking about it brought Ling Ye a strange sense of security.
He reached for it and held the sheathed dagger in his hand, slowly drawing the blade.
Though it wasn't the first time he had held it, it was the first time in a long while that he unsheathed the dagger and truly admired it.
The blade was made of pale white iron, smooth and clean, with a sharp glint that reflected the warm glow of the lamp. It had a quiet, elegant beauty.
In the past, he had only glanced at it a few times. He was never particularly drawn to weapons especially not swords or daggers, but he did know a few basic techniques. Old Wang had once been a master of the dagger arts, and though he'd taught Ling Ye a bit, he had never taken it seriously.
After Old Wang's death, Ling Ye had left the dagger untouched, letting it sit in silence in his room... until now.
Wang Xin, on the other hand, had learned all of Old Wang's dagger techniques and had become quite skilled. So much so that even some of the seniors in the Library Courtyard had offered her guidance and advice.
At the time, Ling Ye hadn't cared much, but now, now he regrets it deeply to not learning them. He wished he had paid more attention, learned more while he still had the chance. Now, all he knew was how to properly hold a sword or dagger.
The wise teachings Old Wang once shared with him about the art of wielding a dagger had long since faded from memory. He couldn't recall a single technique, not even a stance.
With that thought, his moment of reflection came to an end. Ling Ye slowly resheathed the dagger, giving the green sheathed weapon a few final glances before setting it down carefully.
Then, his gaze shifted to something else, the item Ling Bai had given him before his departure from the Ling Clan.
He hadn't given it much thought during the journey, glancing at it occasionally but never quite understanding what it was. Now, under the warm glow of the lamp, he examined it more closely.
Before him lay three long strips of yellow paper, each about the length of his palm and the width of three fingers. Though simple in appearance, Ling Ye recognized them instantly from the books he'd read about cultivation.
These weren't ordinary papers.
They were talismans.
He had only ever read about them, descriptions in old books meant to give mortals a glimpse into the vast world of cultivation. They were meant to broaden a youth's horizons, to inspire awe and ambition.
Now, three of them were sitting right in front of him.
Talismans were considered part of the Hundred Minor Arts of Cultivation. Though not as highly regarded as alchemy, they still held great importance. If ranked by value to a clan, alchemy would undoubtedly be first, due to its incredible impact on cultivation and survival. In contrast, talisman crafting would be ranked around fourth.
Alchemy could help cultivators break through bottlenecks or heal even the most grievous wounds, feats so miraculous they were often called "heaven defying", though accepted by the heavens themselves.
Talismans, however, served a different purpose. They focused more on offense and defense.
In one of the books Ling Ye had read on the Hundred Minor Arts, it was stated that a talisman could store the power of a cultivator's attack. Once inscribed and sealed, any cultivator could activate it, unleashing the stored attack without consuming their own Qi.
This made talismans a common and powerful trump card among low realms cultivators.
With all that in mind, Ling Ye couldn't help but ask himself a question, "Why would they give something so valuable to me and then not just one, but three talismans, why?"