Ye Kaishan reappeared on the training ground of the Song Clan.
Dozens of disciples, all girls between the ages of twelve to fifteen, were seated cross-legged in cultivation circles. They were soul spirit realm cultivators, each trying to awaken their Dao Companions under the watchful eyes of their elders.
Ye Kaishan wandered around the pavilions and cultivation halls of the clan one after another. After some time, he came across a peculiar structure—a shabby, dust-covered pavilion that looked like it hadn't been maintained in decades.
Does anyone even visit this place? Ye Kaishan mused, tilting his head and placing a hand under his chin. Anyway, I'm free till night. Let's kill some time here.
He pushed the creaky wooden door open and entered.
The floor creaked under his weight—it was made from poorly treated wood that groaned with each step. Inside, it was dimly lit. Near the entrance stood a counter, behind which shelves stretched into the shadows. The air smelled musty, and every shelf was lined with ancient, decaying books.
The cracked tiles on the floor revealed the pavilion's neglect. A narrow staircase coiled up in the far corner, leading to a second floor.
"The caretaker must be really lazy," Ye Kaishan muttered, frowning as he stepped over a pile of scattered books. "The place is a mess."
"Who are you to judge, boy?" a stern, aged voice echoed from the shadows.
"W-Who's there?" Ye Kaishan froze, caught off guard by the unexpected voice.
"I'm here."
He turned to the counter. An elderly man, looking to be in his eighties, sat up slowly from where he had been napping. His black robes were dusty, his long white eyebrows curled over deep-set eyes that shimmered with intelligence.
"Who are you, boy?" the old man asked, yawning as he settled back into his seat.
"I'm Ye Kaishan."
The old man examined him carefully. "Oh! Are you the one who's become the companion of the Matriarch's daughter?"
"Yes, I am," Kaishan replied, offering a polite nod.
"Yaaawn... You made quite a ruckus, destroying your manor like that. I wasn't there, but word travels."
Ye Kaishan chuckled awkwardly.
"So, what brings you here?" the old man asked, reclining lazily.
"Nothing in particular. Just exploring and passing time."
"If you want to walk around, go ahead. This place isn't anything special—hardly anyone comes here. In fact, I think the last visitor came by mistake, ten or maybe twenty years ago."
The old man chuckled again. "This place only has old relics of Song Clan's history and a few basic martial techniques—nothing grand. If you want to learn something meaningful, go to the Soul Pavilion. They have proper soul and spirit sword techniques."
He opened his eyes to say more, but Ye Kaishan had already wandered off deeper inside.
"Sigh... Youngsters never listen." The old man lay back down and dozed off again.
Ye Kaishan strolled from shelf to shelf. There were scattered literary scrolls, dusty tomes on Song Clan's lineage, and historical accounts of the Southern Continent. Many of the books were torn, their pages eaten by age—and insects. Some even had fleas crawling on them.
"Gross... This old man really doesn't care about this place," Kaishan muttered. "Then again, if no one visits, why would he bother maintaining it?"
He sighed and arrived at the final shelf near the staircase. Curious, he scanned its contents but found nothing particularly interesting. Just as he was about to ascend to the second floor, something caught his eye.
On top of the tall shelf, mostly hidden from view, was a single book untouched by time or decay.
"Huh?" he mumbled, pausing mid-step. "That one looks... clean?"
He climbed down and carefully retrieved the book. It had an ancient leather cover, darkened with age, yet strangely intact. Its binding was cracked and worn, its cover faded to an almost black hue with time. Yet, faintly visible under the grime were two golden characters, dull and nearly rubbed away—"Star Realm."
"Star Realm".
"This one looks older than the rest, but it's not dusty or rotten. No fleas either," he whispered, intrigued. "Interesting…"
Grinning, he stored the book in his private space.
"Alright, time to check the second floor."
He ascended the creaking staircase.
Song Qian Manor
Song Yan returned home and checked her parents' bedroom, then the courtyard. The manor was unusually quiet.
Why is no one here? she wondered. Official duties should've been done by now.
Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open.
"Father?" Song Yan turned quickly. It was Song Lao.
"Song Yan! When did you arrive? And where's Ye Kaishan?" he asked warmly.
"He's in our manor. But where were you, Father? And where is Mother?" Song Yan asked.
"Oh, your mother? She's gone into secluded cultivation."
"In retreat?" Song Yan tilted her head. Then suddenly, it clicked. Right, this is around the time when she entered seclusion to break through to her next realm!
Sigh… what now? She was supposed to give me the herbs I need for the Body Realm…
"Here, take this," Song Lao said, handing her a small soul ring. "Your mother gave this to me for you."
"This is...?"
"Everything you need for the Body Realm," he said with a gentle smile.
Song Yan's face lit up. "Thank you, Father!" she cried, hugging him tightly.
"Haha, you smile just like your mother," Song Lao chuckled, ruffling her hair.
"Well, it's almost time. I'll be joining your mother in retreat. Take care of yourself—and Ye Kaishan too."
With that, Song Lao left the manor.
I should go gather the remaining herbs now, Song Yan thought and departed.
Shabby Pavilion – Second Floor
Ye Kaishan entered the second floor of the pavilion.
"This floor isn't any better than the first… but at least there are no fleas on the books," he muttered to himself, glancing around.
The shelves here were just as old, but slightly more organized. Ye Kaishan wandered between them, noting the titles. This floor seemed to contain only books of ordinary martial arts—techniques that required no soul energy. He frowned.
"Why do these even exist in a world where becoming a deity or destroying the heavens isn't impossible?" he muttered. "Maybe... for ordinary people?"
Still curious, he racked through the books until one caught his eye—a worn, dull-colored manual
buried among random tomes.
The title read: Basics of Using a Sword and Three Forms of the Blade.
In the corner of the book, barely visible, was a scribbled note in faint, tiny letters:
"If you master this book, then under the heavens you shall be a true Sword God."
"Waah… so shameless. Even reading it makes me embarrassed," Ye Kaishan laughed dryly, shaking his head."Still, is it okay for me to pick this one?" he muttered, then shrugged. "At least it's better than those scraps."
He sat down cross-legged on the dusty floor and flipped the book open.
After a while, he sighed."As expected, it's just an ordinary manual. Three basic offensive sword techniques, nothing else. What sword god? Hmph…"
Still, he closed the book carefully and stood up."Well, at least it can teach me some sword basics."
He descended back to the first floor. The old man was still dozing at the counter, slouched like a broken puppet left too long in place.
Ye Kaishan slammed the book down on the wooden desk."W-Who…?" The old man jolted awake, startled by the noise.
He looked at Ye Kaishan and yawned. "You're still here? What do you want now?"
"I want this book," Ye Kaishan replied.
The old man glanced lazily at the title—Basics of Using a Sword and Three Forms of the Blade."Take it, and don't disturb my sleep again," he grumbled before settling back into his chair.
Ye Kaishan picked up the book, then paused. "You really should clean this place up, old man."
The old man opened one eye, peered at him from the corner, and a faint, smile curved his lips. Then he closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep.