Knock knock.
Hearing the polite knocking on his office door, Ling Ye lifted his head and spoke loud enough for the visitor to hear, "Come in."
With Ling Ye's approval, a middle-aged man entered. His long hair was slightly messy, his clothes stained with dirt and even torn in a few places. But what truly surprised Ling Ye wasn't his appearance, it was the man himself.
"Oh, Second Supervisor, you're already back?" Ling Ye asked in surprise.
The Second Supervisor gritted his teeth but said nothing. Instead, he reached behind his back, unstrapped the cloth bundle he carried, and began to unpack it. From within, he revealed a single letter.
Ling Ye's brows rose again. The cultivator at Quiet Peak could have simply conveyed the message verbally to the Second Supervisor, yet it seemed they had not. Without a word, the man handed Ling Ye the letter and immediately turned to leave.
Not caring that the supervisor left without so much as a bow or farewell, Ling Ye broke the seal and opened the letter. Only a single word was written inside, "Nothing."
"Oh… so it seems I worried too much," Ling Ye murmured, placing the letter back on his desk. But as his thoughts drifted back to the Second Supervisor's worn-out appearance, another idea surfaced.
"Is that really the truth?"
After all, the man had looked utterly drained, far more than one week's work should have caused.
"What to do… what to do?" Ling Ye muttered under his breath. In the end, he realized there was nothing he could do about the matter, except to be more cautious of his surroundings.
"Haa…" He let out a long sigh before turning his thoughts toward other matters that required attention.
Glancing out the window, he noticed that the snow had finally stopped falling. Spring was coming, and with it, the Founding Feast.
As his thoughts lingered on the feast and the issue of overpopulated wild animals, an absurd idea crossed his mind. He instantly chuckled at the notion.
"As if any cultivator would care about a few mortals," Ling Ye muttered, dismissing the thought almost immediately.
With that, he began organizing the tasks for the upcoming feast. Thanks to the traditions from past years, most of the preparations were straightforward, only a few personal adjustments were needed to keep it from being identical to last year's event.
But as Ling Ye reviewed the plans, a sudden question popped into his mind.
"Can I… somehow use this feast?"
The thought sparked a chain of ideas, each one building on the last, until one particular plan stood out. A special idea began to take shape and Ling Ye was already working on turning it into reality.
"If I do this, the mortal children might rise with even greater motivation!" Ling Ye thought with satisfaction. With that, his idea was fully planned out and the next Founding Feast of Quiet Spring Village would be more unique than any in recent years.
After all, seeing how much stronger the mortal children had become since the last feast would surely inspire the younger generation to train harder. And next year, there would be even more eager to improve themselves for a better chance at becoming cultivators.
"Good!" Ling Ye nodded firmly, then began writing down the structure of his plan. It was something unique for a simple mortal village, yet he had seen similar approaches mentioned many times in the books he'd read, famous cultivators recording their journeys and methods for inspiring others.
Days passed.
Then came the day when flowers began to bloom, the sun lingered longer in the sky, and winter finally loosened its grip.
Though winters in Quiet Spring Village were never harsh, snow rarely settled on the ground, the long nights were a reminder of the season. Ling Ye had once guessed that this mildness was due to the unique nature of Quiet Spring Mountain, though he knew little else beyond that.
What he did know was that Quiet Peak was the only peak where a cultivator could truly cultivate.
Now, as the sun finally dipped beyond the horizon, the village was alive with preparation. Tables were set with meat and wine, laughter and chatter filled the air, Quiet Spring Village was ready to celebrate the first day of spring.
Ling Ye slowly dressed himself in a set of fine, elegant robes, clothes gifted to him by the Ling Clan. Made of soft, comfortable silk, they were undeniably noble in appearance.
As he adjusted the sleeves, his thoughts drifted back to the day he had received them. He remembered the outer disciple who had brought not only these robes, but also the pen he used daily and a few talismans for emergencies.
At the time, Ling Ye hadn't noticed the subtle annoyance in the man's eyes. Now, however, he understood, it hadn't been simple indifference.
That outer disciple had been mocking him for wearing such fine robes as a mere mortal and was even jealous of the talismans he'd been given. The man had gone so far as to ask if Ling Ye would sell them. Ling Ye had simply refused and left the mansion without another word.
Looking at himself now in those same robes, a bitter smile tugged at his lips.
"Even after being cast out for five months, I'm still wearing the clothes they gave me. Heh… truly pathetic."
He chuckled at the irony, then shook his head.
The robes were dark blue, a color he had often worn back in the mansion. On his back, a delicate pattern depicted a snake and a bird, one embroidered along the right sleeve, the other along the left. White and light blue lines traced across the dark fabric, adding a refined and noble air to his appearance.
After finishing dressing, Ling Ye's mind wandered back to an absurd thought he'd had a few days ago, what if someone was scheming against the village, deliberately controlling the animals to overbreed, and planning to use them as tools for some unknown purpose?
It was a ridiculous notion, of course. Who would go to such lengths for an insignificant, unimportant mortal village?
Still… even if the thought was absurd, Ling Ye couldn't shake the feeling that caution was necessary.
He stepped over to the desk, crouched down, and pulled open the small locker beneath it. Inside lay five talismans, the ones the clan had given him before banishing him. They were meant to be used only for protection, in times of real danger.
Ling Ye took one out and studied it with a bitter smile.
It was drawn on a small, slightly yellowed slip of paper. The ink used was a strange blend of deep purple and muted blue, unnatural to a mortal's eye, and it radiated a faint sense of danger.
The lines formed shapes that, at first glance, seemed abstract, but the longer one looked, the more they resembled hands. Not a single pair of hands, but countless ones, reaching and overlapping in a way that seemed endless.
"If what I read is correct, talismans that require no qi can be used even by mortals," Ling Ye thought. "The clan wouldn't have given me something useless… so I should be able to use them."
He remembered reading those words in a small guidebook, one that described the various paths a cultivator could take beyond simple combat.
There was the Alchemy Path, the Talisman Path, and the Formation Path, three of the most well-known branches of cultivation outside the main Fighting Path. The book had mentioned that many other, smaller paths existed, but Ling Ye knew nothing about them.
Even obtaining that book had been risky, if anyone had discovered it in his possession, he would have been punished. Only Wang Xin had known about it, and she hadn't cared.
Thinking back to the old days, when he had lived freely with nothing to worry about except reading, a faint smile appeared on his lips. It was a pure smile, the kind that reflected his old self. But as the sun sank beyond the horizon, reality returned, and the smile faded.
Ling Ye's gaze fell on the remaining four talismans.
Aside from the one with the countless hands, there was another with a pattern resembling an arrow. The moment he held it, he felt an oppressive pressure, as though holding it for too long without using it would make him faint.
The next was even stranger, covered in countless interwoven lines that made no discernible shape, yet still pressing down on him with that same suffocating weight.
The third talisman bore a design like a small sphere. Unlike the others, it gave him no sense of danger. Instead, it filled him with a deep, inexplicable feeling of safety, as if nothing in the world could harm him while it was active.
The last was perhaps the most unsettling. It displayed only a pair of eyes, nothing more. And yet, unlike the others, it gave off no pressure, no safety, no danger. It was as if this was a normal piece of paper.
"Haa…" Ling Ye sighed aloud, slipping the talismans into his pocket, somewhere he could reach instantly in case of an emergency. With that, his preparations were complete and his lingering worries set aside. At last, he left his office.
The moon was already high, casting its silver light over the village. He was late for the Founding Feast, but he walked with unhurried steps, moving along the clean streets he had personally ordered to be swept.
Seeing them so tidy brought him a small sense of satisfaction, and he nodded to himself.
The feast grounds ahead were bright with the glow of countless lamps, their warm light banishing the night's shadows. Ling Ye paused for a brief moment to take in the scene before continuing toward it.
"Hopefully nothing dangerous will happen…" he murmured under his breath. With that, he left the quiet region of his office house behind.