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Morning.
"I think I'm falling into decadence."
Junting lay sprawled beneath bedding stuffed with down from a Thousand-Year-Old White Jade Swan—staring up at the crystal soul-guided chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A guilty thought drifted through his mind: 'I've gone soft.'
Last night, the moment he'd stepped into this private courtyard—his very own—he'd collapsed onto the bed crafted from a hundred-year-old soul beast material, Spirit-Slumber Ancientwood. He'd fallen into such a deep sleep that even now, he felt utterly unwilling to rise, as if sealed beneath the covers by some ancient curse.
But then he remembered the final words Master Ning had spoken before he left the main hall—and bolted upright.
"Since you have no surname… why not take 'Chen'?"
The whisper felt like a quiet nudge toward a choice.
"Ugh! Enough thinking!"
With a sharp shake of his head, Junting banished the thought. From his storage-type soul-guided device, he pulled out a porcelain vial and tipped out a single deep-blue pill the size of a cherry.
This, too, was part of his "treatment" from the sect.
"Is this… the Mystic Water Pill?"
He examined the pill's delicate white marbling, breathing in the faint mist curling around it—cool, clean, and subtly fragrant.
For a soul master of his caliber, the Mystic Water Pill's meridian-purifying and body-refining effects were merely supplementary—like gilding lilies. But even so, it undeniably helped.
"This courtyard alone must be worth tens of thousands of gold soul coins. Is this how Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect tests its future leaders?!"
Still holding the pill, Junting left his room, stripped down in the bathing chamber, swallowed the Mystic Water Pill, and settled cross-legged onto the floor, slipping instantly into meditation.
Soon, a soft blue glow emanated from his body. A thin layer of mist clung to his skin, carrying that same fresh, clean scent.
Then, his skin began to ripple faintly. Tiny currents of energy seeped from his pores as the pale blue mist flowed in and out like breath. Over time, the mist darkened, and the once-refreshing fragrance faded—until, finally, it turned black and foul-smelling.
By noon, the purification was complete.
Junting slowly opened his eyes—only to be immediately assaulted by a stench so vile it punched straight into his nostrils.
"Ugh! So foul! Good thing I saw this coming."
Even prepared, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Glancing down at the thick, tar-like grime coating his body, he felt as though he'd tumbled into a sewer and rolled around for good measure.
He cranked the shower on full blast and scrubbed himself thoroughly—three times over—before finally pulling his clothes back on.
Just as he stepped out of the bathing chamber, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
When he opened it, there stood Ye Xuanji.
"Master."
"Hmm."
Ye Xuanji gave him a once-over and immediately noticed the change. "So you've already taken the Mystic Water Pill." He placed a hand on Junting's wrist, sensing briefly.
"Level Thirteen." He released the boy's wrist with a slight nod. "Two levels from the three-hundred-year Dark Gold Terror Claw Bear soul ring, one from the pill. Right on schedule."
"So, Master—what's next?"
"Well…" Ye Xuanji glanced at the sky. "It's already noon. We eat first. You won't survive the training ahead if you don't fuel yourself properly. Follow me."
He led Junting to a dining hall—or rather, what looked like a modest little room.
Confused, Junting scanned the exterior. It was tiny—barely twenty square meters—just a simple round table and sparse furnishings. Utterly unassuming… until you looked closer. The table itself was carved from the body of a plant-type soul beast.
And the room wasn't empty.
Seated quietly on a stool was a girl—youthful, yet radiating quiet nobility. Her short golden hair shimmered like sunlight, her water-blue eyes sparkled like stars, and her long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. She was striking.
"Grandpa Ye," she said softly, rising to her feet as they entered. She bowed gracefully—impeccable in every motion.
"Ah, little Tian," Ye Xuanji chuckled warmly. "Sorry to keep you waiting." He placed a hand on Junting's shoulder. "This is Junting—your new senior brother. Call him 'Brother Junting.' And Junting—this is Ning Tian, the only daughter of our sect's master and heir to the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect. Her talent rivals yours: she's the second support-type soul master in history—after Ancestor Oscar—to awaken with Full Innate Soul Power."
"Oh, Grandpa Ye, you flatter me," Ning Tian said humbly, her tone free of arrogance. The impression she made was instantly favorable.
"Hello, I'm Junting," he began—then paused, as if resolving something within himself. His voice grew firm. "You can also call me Chen Junting."
Both Ye Xuanji and Ning Tian froze for a heartbeat.
Ning Tian blinked—surprised by the familiar surname "Chen."
But Ye Xuanji understood the weight of that choice. Though inwardly pleased, he showed nothing outwardly—only a quiet warmth in his eyes, and a deep, unspoken satisfaction.
"Then… I'll call you Brother Junting," Ning Tian said brightly, glancing at their height difference and instantly softening the distance between them with affectionate ease.
After bowing once more to Ye Xuanji, she guided Chen Junting to the round table—a gesture that brought a pleased smile to the old man's face.
Leaving the two to settle in, Ye Xuanji headed straight for the kitchen.
When he returned, he carried a bamboo steamer filled with dark, lumpy buns—unappetizing at first glance, but unmistakably food.
Chen Junting glanced at Ning Tian—and caught her frowning slightly. Clearly, these "buns" weren't exactly her favorite.
"Here you go, little Tian," Ye Xuanji said, placing two buns on her plate. To Chen Junting, he handed the rest—three buns, still in the steamer. "This is your staple. Since it's your first time, I'm giving you three based on my estimation."
No sooner had he spoken than the kitchen door swung open. A stout chef in his forties emerged, balancing two covered trays. Even before the lids were lifted, an intoxicating aroma flooded the room—rich, savory, mouthwatering.
Once the covers came off, Chen Junting didn't reach for his chopsticks right away. Instead, he turned to Ning Tian.
"Ning Tian, what are these dishes?"
"Just call me Xiao Tian, Brother Junting," she corrected gently—then launched into her explanation.
"The first is Dragon-Whale Stew—made from Thousand-Year Earth Dragon Tendons and Thousand-Year Whale Gelatin. A single serving enhances a soul master's physical constitution. Worth tens of thousands of gold soul coins."
"The second is Honey-Glazed Bear Paw—crafted from the paw of a Hundred-Year Dark Gold Terror Claw Bear and honey from Hundred-Year Golden Jade Bees. Don't let the 'hundred-year' fool you—this dish is far more valuable than the Dragon-Whale Stew."
Chen Junting's jaw nearly dropped.
'What does 'rolling in wealth' mean?! This—IS it!'
'What does 'top-tier treatment' mean?! THIS—IS IT!'
'One meal—tens of thousands of gold soul coins!'
"Normally," Ning Tian added, picking up a piece of bear paw and savoring it slowly, "this dish uses Thousand-Year Vajra Bear paw and Thousand-Year Green Jade Bee honey. But today's version—Dark Gold Terror Claw Bear and Golden Jade Bee—is actually superior, despite being only hundred-year. We're in for a treat!" She winked, urging him to try it.
Snapping back to reality, Chen Junting followed his habit: left hand gripping a dark bun, right hand lifting a bite of Dragon-Whale Stew to his mouth. It was tender, sweet, and utterly free of the usual fishy aftertaste. Before he'd even swallowed, he took a big bite of the bun—equally soft, but… pungent. A sharp, earthy stench flooded his mouth, clashing oddly with the stew.
But the moment he swallowed—
His expression changed instantly.
A wave of warmth surged down his throat, exploding through his limbs and core like liquid fire. Energy flooded his meridians, invigorating every cell.
This is incredible! Absolutely incredible!
He began eating faster.
His qi and blood surged with growing intensity.
By the end, the Honey-Glazed Bear Paw and the dark buns were completely devoured. Only the Dragon-Whale Stew remained—too rich for their full stomachs.
Ye Xuanji surveyed the aftermath and made a mental note: 'I'll need to intensify this disciple's physical conditioning. Otherwise, no matter how many treasures we feed him, he won't be able to absorb them.'
"Finished?" he asked.
"Yes!" came the eager reply.
"Then meditate. Once you've digested most of it, your real training begins."
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