Surrounded by books scattered across the floor, Ling Ye sat quietly, dressed in a fine blue robe. Some of the books lay open mid page, others stacked in messy piles beside him.
Sunlight poured through the window, casting a golden hue across the room. The candles around him, once his only source of light, had long burned out. One still flickered faintly, but the other four were completely melted down to the base of the wax.
Ling Ye looked exhausted. His eyes were heavy, his posture slouched. He hadn't slept properly in the last two days.
Though morning had already arrived, it wasn't until nearly an hour later that Ling Ye truly registered the fact, today was the day. The time for preparation was over. There was no more studying, no more training, no more time.
He let out a long, weary sigh and stood from the pile of books beneath him. Turning toward the window, he gazed out at the familiar sight: the majestic mountains in the distance, the clear blue sky, and a small sliver of the city below, just barely visible from this height at the foot of the Library Courtyard.
This view was one of the reasons Ling Ye had chosen this room to become his private library. Long ago, when this space was nothing but a dusty, empty chamber, it was Old Wang who had asked if he wanted a private place for himself, seeing how deeply interested Ling Ye was in books. That simple gesture had planted the seed for everything that followed.
Remembering that moment, Ling Ye sighed again, this time from a place of sadness.
His eyes fell to the books scattered across the floor. Slowly, he began picking them up one by one, gently placing them back on the shelves where they belonged.
Once everything was in its place, he took a final look around the room.
Then, without another word, he stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind him.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door as if committing it to memory. Then he sighed, deep and heavy.
"This time… it really is the last," he muttered quietly.
And with that, Ling Ye turned away and began walking down the hall, heading off to prepare for his departure, ready to wait for Ling Bai's arrival.
Ling Ye began packing his belongings after finding a large travel bag, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized, he didn't own much at all. So, with a wry smile, he set the large bag aside and replaced it with a smaller one.
After finishing his preparations, he decided to take one last bath, a luxury he hadn't had the time or peace of mind to enjoy for the past three days. Now freshly washed, dressed neatly, and carrying the small bag in his hand, Ling Ye stepped out of the mansion.
He stood silently before the gates, at the top of the stairs that led down into the Library Courtyard. The bag rested beside him on the stone floor.
Ling Ye glanced at it, small, unimpressive, yet it carried everything he now owned. There was no emotion in his gaze, only a quiet emptiness. His eyes were deep and cold, tinged with a quiet pain.
Trying to distract himself, he turned his gaze toward the view, taking in the mountain breeze and the gentle touch of wind on his skin. He allowed himself to enjoy it, just for a moment, knowing it might be the last time.
Soon, footsteps echoed up the stairs, and Ling Bai appeared, climbing steadily toward the mansion.
He wore the same robe as last time, his expression calm, but as his eyes fell on Ling Ye waiting at the top, a flicker of confusion crossed his face. Then, mid step, Ling Bai chuckled bitterly and shook his head.
"Ling Ye, why are you standing out here? It must be cold for you. You could've waited inside, the extra steps wouldn't have killed me," he said with a sigh.
His tone caught Ling Ye off guard. He had assumed Ling Bai wanted to finish things quickly, which was exactly why he'd chosen to wait outside. Surprised, Ling Ye blinked, then quietly shook his head to collect himself.
"There's no reason for me to be here anymore, Senior Bai," he replied flatly. "Let's depart."
Baffled by Ling Ye's choice of words, Ling Bai let out a sigh but chose not to dwell on them. Without saying anything further, he glanced at the small bag beside Ling Ye. With a casual wave of his hand, the bag lifted gently into the air, floating beside him. Then he gestured for Ling Ye to follow.
Catching the silent cue, Ling Ye walked alongside him, no longer needing to carry the bag himself. They made their way down the mountain path from the mansion, through the familiar Library Courtyard, and finally reached the base of the mountain.
The entire journey was quiet. Neither spoke a word, and the silence stretched between them like a veil, calm, but heavy.
Once they arrived at the foot of the mountain, Ling Ye saw a black carriage waiting for them. Its surface was adorned with faint blue lines, and two sturdy horses stood ready at its front. An old coachman sat atop the carriage, clearly waiting for them.
Ling Ye knew immediately, this was the carriage that would take him to his assigned village. There was only one thing left he needed to know before departing the Ling Clan for good.
He turned to Ling Bai.
Noticing his look, Ling Bai gave a faint smile. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a folded document, handing it over to Ling Ye.
"Read this. It contains all the information you'll need about what you requested. Study it carefully."
He paused for a moment, his expression growing more serious.
"There are a few matters within that document marked in red. Those details are confidential and must not be shared with anyone outside the Ling Clan. If you disclose them, even by accident, there will be consequences. So be careful."
Ling Ye took the warning seriously. He bowed respectfully and thanked Ling Bai for both the advice and the help.
Then, without another word, he opened the carriage door and stepped inside, settling onto the bench seat. His small bag floated in after him and rested quietly at his side.
From the small window of the carriage, he caught one last glimpse of Ling Bai, who offered him a final wink—a farewell gesture that was both casual and heartfelt.
With that, the coachman cracked the reins, and the carriage began to move.
As the wheels rolled forward, Ling Ye's departure from the Ling Clan became official. For the first time in his life, he was leaving the core territory of the clan behind and with it, everything that had once defined who he was.
Through the window, Ling Ye quietly watched the landscape pass by during the ride. His eyes grew misty as he bit his lower lip, his hands tightening into fists. The emotions swirling within him were complex, grief, regret, determination, but eventually, after some time on the road and leaving everything behind, Ling Ye lay back on the carriage bench, a small notebook resting on his chest.
He stared at the wooden ceiling of the carriage for a long time, his mind slowly coming to terms with everything that had happened. After a while, he let out a soft sigh and sat up, picking up the notebook and opening it for the first time.
Flipping to the first page, Ling Ye began to read. If nothing else, it would help him pass the time and more importantly, help him learn about the village he would soon govern.
As the notes described, the village was called Spring Village. It had once been led by a fallen minor family. However, that family had not produced a cultivator in a long time. With their decline and the death of the last village head over a year ago, and no successor having been named, the position was now available for Ling Ye to take over.
Ling Ye's curiosity was piqued by the mention of the fallen clan, and to his surprise, there were indeed details written about it, but many of them were marked in red.
Red meant confidential.
He couldn't share this information with anyone outside the Ling Clan. And yet… that only made him more interested what was written in.
As he continued reading, the story of the fallen clan gradually unfolded.
They were called the Spring Family, and had never been a powerful house. In fact, they weren't even true members of the Ling Clan. Long ago, they had been an independent family, barely surviving out in the wildness, until they helped the Ling Clan in a time of need.
As a reward, they were granted permission to settle in the clan's outer territory, where they were allowed to integrate under the Ling banner.
The head of the Spring Family had once been a powerful cultivator, and it was largely thanks to him that the family had been allowed to join the Ling Clan. Alongside him were six other cultivators from the family, and together they managed the village well during their time.
However, the generations that followed did not carry the same strength.
In the next generation, only five new cultivators were born into the family, a clear sign of decline. Over the course of just six generations, the family's declined. It was as if the heavens had slowly turned their backs on the Spring Family.
Eventually, they were left with just one new cultivator born to the family each generation, bringing the total number of cultivators in their numbers to only twenty eight.
Despite their decline in numbers, several among them still rose to prominence within the Ling Clan. Some became respected figures and built strong ties with other branch families of the Ling Clan, but that brief period of success came to a swift end.
The family's downfall began when their powerful head, the one who had once been their pillar of strength, died, barely reaching a hundred years in cultivation. Without his leadership, the family's unity and influence began to crumble.
Not long after, one of the family's elders also passed away from old age, leaving the clan further weakened. Meanwhile, enemies the former family head had once kept at bay began to circle like vultures.
More Spring Family cultivators began to mysteriously die during missions. By the time the dust had settled, only six of the original twenty eight cultivators remained. The family had lost nearly everything and worst of all, no new cultivators had emerged in the current generation.
The Spring Family had existed within the Ling Clan for roughly 130 years. Now, only two cultivator remained, one lone guardian watching over the village, accompanied by a single disciple born from among the commoners and one tring to earn enough to keep the status as a minor family there, all in hope that maybe the next generation will give them a new generation of cultivators.
"Interesting…" Ling Ye muttered to himself after finishing the history section of the notebook.
But when he tried to find more about the powerful family head who had once held the clan together, he realized that nothing further had been written to him. The notebook ended about him there.
Frustrated by the lack of detail, he set the notebook aside and leaned back against the bench. The soft sway of the carriage and the warm breeze made it easier to relax.
Closing his eyes, Ling Ye allowed himself to drift into sleep.
The journey would take three days. There would be time to think and plan later.