Qiangu Lanyue knew something was wrong the instant she heard five pairs of footsteps approaching the residence.
Not because the footsteps were particularly loud.
Well.
Four of them weren’t.
The fifth belonged to Jin Yue.
“I’m hungry!”
Lanyue, who was reviewing several documents in the main room, slowly raised her head.
Ye Zhenyuan, sitting across from her with a cup of tea, did the same.
Both remained silent.
Renxue’s voice came from the corridor.
“Could you stop announcing that every thirty seconds?”
“I haven’t eaten in hours.”
“You ate two hours ago.”
“Exactly.
Hours.”
Zhenyuan set his cup on the table.
“Five.”
Lanyue sighed.
“Five.”
“Do you think they’re coming to visit?”
Then they heard Longyu’s voice.
“Jin Yue, stop running.”
And the immediate response:
“If I get there first, I choose where I sit!”
Zhenyuan smiled.
“No.”
Lanyue was already standing.
“They’re definitely coming to eat.”
The door opened.
Jin Yue was the first to enter.
She stopped the moment she saw Lanyue.
Her expression immediately changed.
“Aunt Lanyue.”
The woman crossed her arms.
“Jin Yue.”
“What a pleasant surprise to find you here.”
Lanyue looked around her own residence.
“I live here.”
“I know.”
Jin Yue smiled.
“That’s why I knew you’d probably be here.”
Renxue entered behind her.
“Don’t listen to her.
She came for food.”
“You came too!”
“I came to accompany Longyu.”
“And for food.”
Renxue fell silent.
Jin Yue smiled victoriously.
Lingyu entered after them and bowed politely.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Lanyue.
Sorry for coming without warning.”
“You’re always welcome.”
Lingyu smiled.
Jin Yue spread her arms.
“And me?”
Lanyue looked at her.
“Depends on how much you eat.”
“That’s discrimination.”
Luoyue entered next, still holding her notebook.
“Good afternoon.”
Finally, Longyu appeared.
He stopped when he saw his parents.
For the first time since returning to Spirit City, all the concentration he had maintained throughout the examinations and the meeting disappeared.
“Mother.
Father.”
Lanyue did not answer.
She walked directly toward him.
Longyu had exactly half a second to understand what was happening before his mother wrapped him in a tight embrace.
“Mother…”
“Quiet.”
Longyu obeyed.
Zhenyuan smiled from his seat.
“Advice from your father: don’t argue.”
Longyu looked at him over his mother’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Excellent.
You’re learning.”
Lanyue finally released him.
Then she immediately grabbed his right arm.
The same arm that had suffered during his absorption.
She examined it carefully.
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll decide that.”
“Mu Qinghe already examined me.”
“I’m not Mu Qinghe.”
“That’s true.”
Lanyue looked up.
Longyu immediately realized that had not been the correct answer either.
“I meant—”
“Give up,” Zhenyuan said.
“The more you talk, the worse it gets.”
“Father, you could help.”
Zhenyuan lifted his cup.
“She’s your mother.
I can’t help you.”
Longyu stared at him in betrayal.
Renxue began laughing.
Lanyue finished examining her son.
“Show me.”
Longyu knew exactly what she meant.
He extended his hand.
Soul Power circulated.
Dark light appeared.
The Destruction Coiling Dragon Staff materialized.
The dark metallic staff descended until it gently touched the floor.
The black-violet dragon remained coiled around its surface, now more defined than before.
And from beneath Longyu’s feet…
a yellow ring slowly rose.
Lanyue froze.
She had known her son had succeeded.
Qianjun had sent her a message.
Then another.
Afterward, Zhenyuan had managed to obtain additional information.
She knew the approximate age.
She knew the name of the Soul Beast.
She knew Longyu had been injured, though not severely.
She knew he had returned safely.
But knowing…
and seeing…
were two different things.
Lanyue extended a hand and gently touched the staff.
Her own Martial Soul was the Coiling Dragon Staff.
She had grown up seeing it.
Training with it.
Understanding its weight and character.
But her son’s was different.
Familiar.
And yet strange.
Heavier.
Darker.
The dragon almost seemed alive.
“It changed,” she murmured.
Longyu nodded.
“A little.”
“More than a little.”
Zhenyuan had approached as well.
He studied the coiled dragon.
“The claws are more defined.”
Longyu smiled.
“You noticed too.”
“I’m your father.
Sometimes I pay attention.”
“Sometimes,” Lanyue repeated.
Zhenyuan decided to ignore her.
Lanyue looked once more at the yellow ring.
Then at Longyu.
“Was it worth it?”
The question surprised him.
It wasn’t:
Was it powerful?
Is the Soul Skill good?
Is the ring really six hundred years old?
Simply:
Was it worth it?
Longyu thought about the pain.
His arm.
The pressure.
The very real possibility that he had made a mistake.
Then he thought about the result.
What he had learned.
The future of his Martial Soul.
“Yes.”
Lanyue held his gaze.
“Good.”
She lightly tapped him on the forehead.
“But next time, try to make it worth it without nearly destroying your arm.”
Longyu rubbed his forehead.
“I’ll try.”
“No.
You will.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Can we eat now?”
Everyone looked at Jin Yue.
She was completely serious.
Lanyue laughed.
“Yes.”
Jin Yue raised both arms.
“Finally!”
“But you’re helping set the table.”
Her arms dropped.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Help me.”
“No.”
“Lingyu.”
“Of course.”
Jin Yue froze.
She had not expected it to work that quickly.
Lingyu began walking toward the dining room.
“Come on.”
Jin Yue followed her.
Renxue ended up helping too.
Luoyue placed her notebook somewhere safe before joining them.
Longyu tried to do the same.
His mother stopped him.
“You’re coming with me.”
Longyu sensed danger.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know exactly what happened during that absorption.”
Longyu looked toward his father.
Zhenyuan raised his cup again.
He did not need to say anything.
Longyu sighed.
The dinner originally planned for three people had to be quickly transformed into one for seven.
Then nine.
Because Qianjun and Jiangmo appeared.
Lanyue looked at her father from the doorway.
Then at her uncle.
Then toward the table.
“Are you two here to eat as well?”
Jiangmo answered shamelessly.
“Yes.”
Qianjun looked at him.
“We came to see Longyu.”
“And eat.”
“You came to eat.”
“And see Longyu.”
Lanyue looked at her father.
Qianjun cleared his throat.
“We can leave if it’s inconvenient.”
Lanyue smiled.
“Sit down.”
Jiangmo immediately entered.
“I knew I was always your favorite.”
“You aren’t.”
“That hurt.”
“You’ll survive.”
Qianjun smiled.
Longyu watched the scene.
Sometimes it was difficult to reconcile the man in front of him with the Sixth Worship of Spirit Hall.
Outside this house, Qianjun was a Titled Douluo.
A man thousands of Soul Masters would treat with reverence.
Here…
he was simply Lanyue’s father.
And Lanyue did not seem particularly impressed by his title.
“So,” Zhenyuan said once everyone was seated, “I want to hear the whole story.”
Longyu picked up his chopsticks.
“Which one?”
“All of them.”
Jin Yue immediately raised her hand.
“I’ll start!”
Renxue closed her eyes.
“This is going to be terrible.”
“We found an Earthscale Dragon Crocodile.”
“We already know that,” Lanyue said.
“But you don’t know how it fought.”
Jin Yue pointed at herself.
“I was here.”
Then she pointed toward an imaginary spot several meters away.
“The Soul Beast was over there.”
Luoyue spoke calmly.
“It wasn’t that far.”
Jin Yue ignored her.
“It was enormous.”
“Approximately three and a half meters,” Luoyue clarified.
“That’s enormous.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”
Jin Yue continued.
“Then it attacked.”
Jiangmo leaned forward, interested.
“And?”
“I dodged it.”
Luoyue raised an eyebrow.
“The first attack.”
“Yes.”
“The second one hit you.”
Jin Yue put down her chopsticks.
“Whose side are you on?”
Luoyue calmly picked up some food.
“The correct one.”
Renxue started laughing.
Jin Yue pointed at Luoyue.
“The terrain was bad.”
Luoyue looked at her.
“It was flat.”
Silence.
Renxue nearly choked.
Lingyu quickly handed her some water.
Jiangmo slapped the table while laughing.
Even Qianjun had to hide a smile.
Golden Crocodile was not present.
Fortunately for Jin Yue.
“There was dirt!” she protested.
Luoyue blinked.
“The ground usually has dirt.”
That finished off what little dignity Jin Yue had left.
“And you?” Lanyue asked Renxue.
Renxue recovered her composure.
“My absorption was much more elegant.”
Longyu raised an eyebrow.
“You screamed.”
Renxue turned toward him.
“So did you.”
“I never said mine was elegant.”
Jiangmo smiled.
“Good answer.”
Qianjun looked at him.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“I’m simply recognizing a good defense when I see one.”
Renxue pointed at Longyu.
“Besides, he almost destroyed his arm.”
Lanyue slowly put down her chopsticks.
Longyu closed his eyes.
“Renxue.”
The girl realized her mistake too late.
“Ah.”
Lanyue looked at her son.
“‘Almost destroyed his arm’?”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
Lingyu spoke softly.
“Not entirely.”
Longyu turned toward her.
Betrayal.
Lingyu avoided his gaze.
“There was considerable overload.”
“Lingyu.”
“But he recovered well.”
“That doesn’t help.”
Lanyue crossed her arms.
Longyu looked toward Qianjun.
His grandfather was suddenly very focused on his food.
“Grandfather.”
“Yes?”
“You were there.”
“Correct.”
“Say something.”
Qianjun looked up.
“Your mother is right.”
Longyu froze.
Jiangmo grinned widely.
“You’re on your own, kid.”
The conversation continued for nearly an hour.
Luoyue explained the behavior of the Soul Beasts in far more detail than Jin Yue considered necessary.
Lingyu talked about the differences between the five absorptions.
Renxue explained how Qian Daoliu had condemned her to spend the next day reviewing administrative documents.
Zhenyuan seemed to find that particularly amusing.
“What did you do?”
“I had a good idea.”
“Classic mistake.”
Renxue frowned.
“Having a good idea?”
“Telling someone with enough authority to give you work.”
Longyu memorized that lesson.
It might be useful.
Jiangmo began telling his own version of the Ruinclaw Dragon Lizard hunt.
“Then it appeared.”
He paused dramatically.
“A monstrous creature.”
Luoyue looked up.
“It was a juvenile.”
“Monstrously juvenile.”
“It was approximately—”
“Luoyue.”
The girl fell silent.
Jiangmo continued.
“Its claws could tear through steel.”
Longyu interrupted.
“We didn’t test that.”
“They probably could.”
“That isn’t evidence.”
Jiangmo pointed at him.
“This is the problem with you.”
“What?”
“You don’t know how to tell stories.”
“I know how to tell stories.”
“You just stopped mine because we didn’t test whether its claws could tear through steel.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“Because we didn’t.”
Jiangmo looked toward Qianjun.
“You ruined him.”
Qianjun raised an eyebrow.
“Me?”
“He’s exactly like you.”
Lanyue interrupted.
“Actually, ever since he was little…”
Longyu immediately looked at his mother.
“No.”
She smiled.
“No what?”
“Whatever you’re about to tell them.”
“When he was three years old—”
“Mother.”
Renxue leaned forward.
“Continue.”
Jin Yue instantly forgot she was eating.
“Yes.”
Lingyu tried not to look interested.
She failed.
Luoyue discreetly opened her notebook.
Longyu saw her.
“Don’t write this down.”
“It may be important information.”
“It isn’t.”
Lanyue smiled.
Longyu understood that he had lost.
Much later, when the plates were nearly empty, Longyu had finally managed to recover some of his dignity.
Very little.
But some.
He discreetly pulled out a small notebook.
During the conversation, they had mentioned an interesting difference between Jin Yue and Renxue’s recovery.
He only needed to write down one line.
Nothing more.
He opened the notebook beneath the table.
Observation: after absorptions of comparable burden…
A hand appeared.
The notebook vanished.
Longyu slowly raised his head.
His mother was holding it.
“Mother.”
“We’re having dinner.”
“It was only a note.”
“We’re having dinner.”
“I might forget it.”
“Then tomorrow you can practice your memory.”
Longyu looked toward Qianjun.
“Grandfather.”
The Sixth Worship calmly picked up his tea.
“She’s your mother.
I can’t help you.”
Longyu closed his eyes.
Zhenyuan raised his own cup toward Qianjun.
“Finally, someone understands.”
Both men drank.
Jiangmo started laughing.
Dinner ended much later than expected.
Jin Yue ate enough to justify Lanyue’s initial concerns.
Lingyu helped clear the table without anyone needing to ask.
Luoyue retrieved her notebook.
Renxue insisted that the next day she would find some way to drag at least one of them into the administrative division.
No one agreed.
Qianjun and Jiangmo were the last to prepare to leave.
Before walking out, Qianjun stopped beside Longyu.
The boy looked at him.
“What is it?”
Qianjun spent several seconds looking at the yellow ring around his grandson.
It was not active.
But he knew it was there.
His first ring.
The beginning of his path.
Qianjun placed a hand on his head.
“You did well.”
Longyu went still.
He had received criticism.
Corrections.
Questions.
Warnings.
Qianjun had been present through nearly the entire process.
But Longyu could not remember his grandfather ever saying those words so directly.
“Thank you.”
Qianjun removed his hand.
“Don’t get used to it.”
Longyu smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“I thought you were being too nice.”
Qianjun lightly knocked him on the head.
“Good night.”
“Good night, Grandfather.”
Jiangmo passed beside him.
“I always knew you’d survive.”
Longyu looked at him.
“During the absorption, you said that if I exploded, Qianjun would blame you.”
“And I was right.”
Qianjun shouted from the corridor.
“I heard that!”
Jiangmo quickened his pace.
Longyu laughed.
Once everyone had left, the residence became strangely quiet.
Longyu returned to the main room.
His mother still had his notebook.
“Can I have it back?”
Lanyue looked at him.
“Tomorrow.”
“Mother.”
“Tomorrow.”
Longyu sighed.
Zhenyuan was leaning against a wall.
“There are some things even a six-hundred-year Soul Ring can’t help you against.”
Longyu looked at him.
“You could try supporting me once in a while.”
“I support you.”
“When?”
“Emotionally.”
Longyu fell silent.
Zhenyuan smiled.
Lanyue approached her son.
This time, she did not scold him.
She simply adjusted a strand of his hair.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
Longyu stopped thinking about the notebook.
“So am I.”
For a moment, the three of them remained silent.
There were no theories.
No experiments.
No Spirit Hall.
No future to change.
Just a mother.
A father.
And their son.
Longyu knew moments like these seemed small.
In his previous life, he probably would have considered them ordinary.
Now he knew differently.
A home was not built from great events.
It was built from hundreds of moments like this one.
Dinners that were far too loud.
Friends who appeared without invitations.
A grandfather too proud to admit he was proud.
A second grandfather who exaggerated every story.
A mother who confiscated notebooks.
A father who refused to intervene.
Longyu smiled.
This, too, was part of what he wanted to protect.
Perhaps…
the most important part.
Outside in the corridor, Jiangmo walked beside Qianjun.
“You’re proud.”
“Yes.”
Jiangmo stopped.
He had expected a denial.
“That’s it?”
Qianjun kept walking.
“What did you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.
Something like, ‘He still has much to learn,’ or ‘A first ring means nothing.'”
“He still has much to learn.”
Jiangmo smiled.
“There it is.”
Qianjun did not respond.
After a few steps, Jiangmo asked,
“Do you really think he’ll reach a thousand years for his second ring?”
Qianjun remained silent.
“I don’t know.”
“Qian Daoliu said the same thing.”
“Because it is the correct answer.”
Jiangmo looked back toward the residence.
“But you want him to succeed.”
Qianjun also glanced back.
One of the windows was still illuminated.
“I want him to go as far as he can.”
Jiangmo waited.
Qianjun continued.
“And I want him to be smart enough to know when to stop.”
Jiangmo let out a small laugh.
“That second part will be harder.”
Qianjun sighed.
“I know.”
The two brothers continued walking beneath the lights of Spirit City.
Inside the residence, Longyu was arguing with his father about whether he could get his notebook back before going to sleep.
Lanyue had already said no.
The battle was lost.
Longyu simply had not accepted it yet.