In an unfamiliar room, Ling Ye lay sleeping on a thin blanket, surrounded by many others. As the morning sun began to rise, its light slipped through the window and shone directly on his face.
"Hmm?" He stirred awake, his brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the familiar room where he had lived his entire life. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked around and saw dozens of others lying nearby, also asleep or just beginning to wake.
A dark thought suddenly crept into his mind.
"Was I… kidnapped?"
A chill ran down his spine. His body tensed as a wave of fear washed over him.
"How could this happen? And in the middle of the main family's territory no less… Who would dare?"
He clenched his fists, frustrated by his own helplessness. Not knowing what else to do, Ling Ye let out a sigh. But as he moved, a sharp headache struck him without warning.
Grimacing, he grabbed his head and gently massaged his temples. Oddly, there was no sign of injury, no blood, no bruise, nothing. Which only deepened his confusion.
"Was I poisoned?" he wondered, heart beginning to race. The pain in his head was real, yet unexplained.
He sighed again and leaned back against the cold stone wall, trying to calm himself. There was something strange happening in his stomach too, not exactly painful, but definitely unusual. It made him uneasy.
"What should I do?" he whispered to himself. "How can I contact Wang Xin? Is she already looking for me?"
He racked his brain for a solution, desperately trying to recall anything that might explain what had happened, any memory of how he had ended up here.
And then one question repeated in his mind like a haunting echo, "How did they even manage to kidnap me?"
As that thought passed through his mind, a sharp memory surged up, painful and vivid. Ling Ye suddenly remembered saying farewell to Wang Xin, then flying with the middle-aged senior toward the Hall of Spirituality.
"Yes! The Hall of Spirituality… and the senior who brought me there! Where is he?"
Ling Ye sat up, scanning the room, but everyone around him looked to be his age, no older than sixteen. There was no sign of the senior.
"Did he die…?" he whispered, his face paling at the thought. He stared down at the thin blanket covering him, trying to process what could have happened, but then another memory resurfaced, the parting moment with the senior.
"Right… we separated before I entered the Hall. He didn't follow me inside."
Realization dawned, but with it came an even darker possibility.
"Was I kidnapped inside the Nine Peaks?" he murmured, stunned. The idea sent a chill down his spine.
Being taken from outside the clan's territory was one thing… but from within the Nine Peaks? That would mean the Ling Clan had fallen, or worse, no longer existed.
His mind reeled. He could hardly think straight.
But as he glanced around the room again, something odd caught his attention. None of the other youths seemed injured or distressed. In fact, they all looked perfectly fine, simply asleep or just waking up, just like him.
"Strange…" Ling Ye muttered. "If we were kidnapped, why aren't there any wounds? No bindings? No fear?"
The more he looked, the less it made sense. A new thought slowly began to take form in his mind.
"Could it be… we weren't kidnapped at all?"
Frowning in confusion, he closed his eyes and tried to piece everything together. That's when another memory surfaced, clearer this time.
The outer disciple.
His eyes snapped open.
"That's right, the outer disciple guided me to the Hall of Spirituality… then left."
Ling Ye's heart began to race again as he clung to that thread of memory.
Something had happened after he stepped into that pond… but what?
"Did he kidnap me?" Ling Ye thought at first, suspicion still clouding his mind. But then, slowly, memories began to return, moments from their short journey, the small talk they'd shared, especially the words the outer disciple had spoken just before they parted:
"Most mortals aren't lucky enough to be blessed by the heavens… Unable to cultivate for life…"
"Huh?" Ling Ye gasped softly, stunned by the weight of those words. He repeated them under his breath, trying to make sense of it all.
As the thought of spiritual roots entered his mind again, memories came rushing back, clearer now. He remembered the old senior, the majestic crystal pond, the many youths who had stepped forward… some receiving blessings, some not. And then his turn.
His eyes widened.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
His breath caught in his throat as a blurry image flashed across his mind, cold, disappointed yellow eyes.
His father's eyes.
Ling Ye's chest tightened. His vision blurred with tears as the truth sank in fully. He hadn't been kidnapped. No one had taken him away.
He had simply failed.
Too exhausted to walk, they must have carried him here, along with the others who were like him—mortals. The unblessed. The ones the heavens had ignored.
They had simply been placed here to recover… and then to leave.
"Haha…" a bitter laugh escaped him, dry, shaky, painful.
A crooked smile formed on his face, twisted with heartbreak.
"So… I wasn't blessed by the heavens. Disappointing Father..."
His eyes turned hollow, filled with sadness and something unknown. For a brief moment, his bitter laugh echoed through the quiet room, waking several of the others. Like Ling Ye, they were confused at first, but unlike him, most began to accept the truth with far more grace.
As the morning passed, everyone eventually stirred. One by one, they came to terms with the harsh reality, they had not been blessed by the heavens. They would never become cultivators. Only Ling Ye remained apart, unable to accept it.
He sat motionless, staring down at the thin blanket beneath him with a hollow, almost maddened expression.
Some glanced at him with sympathy. They too had shared in the disappointment. A few even approached, offering quiet words of comfort or encouragement, but Ling Ye gave no reply. He didn't acknowledge them, didn't look up.
He remained in his own silent world, drowning in disbelief.
"Sigh… a lost cause," someone whispered, their voice tinged with regret.
Others nodded in agreement, casting Ling Ye one last glance before turning away.
Time moved on. The mood in the room settled into quiet acceptance. The dream was over. Then, the door creaked open.
It was the outer disciple, the same one who had guided Ling Ye to the Hall of Spirituality.
"Now that you're all awake," he began, his voice calm and patient, "you should know the truth. You will never become cultivators, but that doesn't mean your lives are meaningless. There are many powerful cultivators who envy the peace of a mortal life. So live well. Live fully. And let go of today. Forget it."
He didn't speak harshly. His words weren't cold or dismissive. There was a strange gentleness in them, a kind of understanding. Many nodded, some even whispered thanks as they stood and began to file out of the room.
All but one.
Ling Ye remained where he was, silent, still leaning against the wall, lost in a storm only he could feel.
"Sigh…" The outer disciple exhaled heavily, unsure of what to say. He looked at Ling Ye with quiet pity, recalling the conversation they'd shared before parting ways.
"Heaven truly has its ways…" he murmured to himself, the irony of their last words weighing on his heart.
With another deep breath, he clapped his hands sharply, breaking Ling Ye's daze.
Startled, Ling Ye looked up in surprise, then offered a faint, bitter smile. But the outer disciple chose not to respond to the expression. Instead, he spoke in a colder, more detached tone, "You need to leave. The seniors want the new juniors to remain here."
There was no malice in his voice, only finality.
Ling Ye simply nodded and rose to his feet without a word. Silently, he left the room.
With no clear direction, he wandered through the clan grounds, his mind fogged with despair. Somehow, as if guided by instinct, he found himself back at the Library Courtyard.
The moment he stepped inside, a tear slipped down his cheek. His eyes were sunken with exhaustion, dark circles forming beneath them. Around him, cultivators entered and exited the courtyard as usual, but no one looked at him. No one greeted him.
He was just another mortal now, barely worth a glance.
Once, his return would have brought warm welcomes, friendly nods, perhaps even a few eager conversations. But now? Now he was invisible.
Ling Ye gave a weak, bitter smile as the truth settled in his chest.
"Of course no one expected me to come back," he thought. "Why would they?"
"Hehe." Ling Ye let out a bitter chuckle at himself and continued walking toward the tallest mountain in the Library Courtyard, the one that stood higher than all the others.
His legs ached with every step, but eventually he arrived at the foot of the familiar peak.
There was no one guarding the base of the mountain. Only a long, winding staircase stretched upward toward the summit. Ling Ye placed his foot on the first step. With every stair he climbed, a wave of disappointment washed over him, heavier than the last.
His mind filled with the image of Wang Xin's saddened expression.
The thought of her made him stop in his tracks. He bit his lip, his gaze falling to the ground.
"She must be so disappointed," he muttered softly.
But he didn't turn back. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and continued climbing until he finally reached the top.
Before him stood a large mansion, quiet, familiar.
For the first time that day, a small smile broke across Ling Ye's face.
He stepped forward and pushed open the doors, which yielded effortlessly to his hand.
The moment he entered, the sweltering heat of the outside world melted away. Cool, comforting air welcomed him like an old friend. Ling Ye's smile deepened, and the hollow look in his eyes softened ever so slightly.
He walked through the quiet corridors, tracing a path he'd walked a hundred times before. But as he turned toward the hallway that led to his room, he stopped.
Someone was standing there.
Someone he didn't want to see.
She sat alone in the hallway, quietly perched on a chair by the window. Her gaze was distant, fixed beyond the glass, and her expression was cold, colder than Ling Ye had ever seen.
The moment she noticed him approaching, her eyes shifted. That coldness didn't fade. If anything, it became sharper, more defined.
Ling Ye froze.
He had never seen Wang Xin look at him like that before. It wasn't just cold, it was familiar. Too familiar.
And then it struck him.
Those weren't just cold eyes. They were the same kind of disappointed eyes he had seen once before.
The yellow eyes of his father.
The realization drained the color from Ling Ye's face. He stood rooted in place, unable to speak.
Wang Xin glanced at him one last time, clicked her tongue, and turned to leave. Just before she disappeared around the corner, she muttered something, so soft, Ling Ye almost missed it.
But he heard it.
It echoed in his mind like thunder.
"Waste…"
The word shattered what little strength he had left. Ling Ye lowered his head, staring at the floor beneath his feet as if it might crumble with him, His smile died in silence.