After a whole day journey Wang Yan and Chen Yu reached Gray Stone village .
The village appeared calm and unchanged, low houses lining the path, carrying the warmth and quiet rhythm of a place untouched by the outside world.
Wang Yan stepped into the courtyard he knew so well, the scent of earth and old wood stirring memories he had carried with him since leaving. As the gate opened, he saw an old man in the backyard, slowly tending worn cultivating tools, his familiar figure steady, patient, and deeply rooted in time.
The old man paused and spoke without turning, his voice carrying the familiar impatience of age. "Who is it? If you're here about tools, come back tomorrow."
Before he could continue, a hesitant voice answered from behind him. "Grandfather…"
"Grandfather…" Wang Yan called again, this time louder, his eyes reddening as recognition overwhelmed him, and before he could stop himself, he ran forward and embraced the old man tightly, his shoulders trembling.
For a moment the old man stood stiff, then his hands slowly rose, resting on Wang Yan's back as his voice softened, chiding him for returning without warning while quietly saying how long he had waited.
The old man snorted softly, one hand resting on Wang Yan's back as he spoke in a rough yet familiar tone.
"You little brat… already grown up, yet you still cry like a child the moment you come home. Do you cry like this everywhere?"
Wang Yan shook his head slightly, his voice muffled against his grandfather's chest.
"I only cry here… because it's you..…I missed you."
The old man's hand paused for a brief moment before it pressed more firmly against Wang Yan's back, his grip betraying the emotion he refused to show.
"Idiot," he muttered, turning his head slightly, "if you missed me, you should have written."
Wang Yan laughed softly through his tears. "I was afraid… if I wrote, I'd come back before becoming stronger."
You brat…" the old man grumbled, but his voice was hoarse, lacking any real scolding.
"If you dared come back without growing stronger, I would've chased you out myself."
Wang Yan smiled against his Chest, tears still warm.
"That's why I didn't come back sooner."
"Ha ha ha…" the old man laughed suddenly, the sound rough but genuine, echoing softly through the small courtyard.
"Good, good. At least you've learned something while you were away."
The old man's laughter faded as his sharp eyes shifted past Wang Yan, finally landing on the boy standing a little awkwardly nearby.
"Oh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "So you even brought a friend with you?"
Chen Yu straightened immediately, scratching the back of his head with an awkward grin.
"Ah—yes, sir. I'm Chen Yu. I came with Wang Yan."
The old man studied him for a moment, then gave a short chuckle.
"Hmph. If you can keep up with this brat, you must have some backbone."
Wang Yan finally pulled back, wiping his eyes, a small smile breaking through.
"Grandfather, he's… my friend."
The old man nodded once, then waved his hand toward the house.
"Good. Then don't just stand there. Come in—both of you."
The old man fell silent for a long while, staring at the ground as if weighing every word Wang Yan had spoken. The quiet pressed down heavily, until even Chen Yu stopped fidgeting.
"More than four hundred years…" the old man said at last, his voice low and stunned. "As your first Soul Ring."
He shook his head slowly. "When I obtained mine, it was only White. Even then, I nearly lost my life."
Chen Yu couldn't help blurting out, "Instructor Qiu barely blocked Yan's skill afterward. I thought the hall would collapse."
He scratched his head, then added honestly, "That bear… if the instructor hadn't been there, none of us would've walked away."
The old man's eyes flicked to Chen Yu, sharp but thoughtful.
"So you saw it yourself."
"Yes, sir," Chen Yu said quickly. "That kind of power… it doesn't belong to someone our age."
The old man looked back at Wang Yan, concern finally breaking through his calm.
"Power like that doesn't just change your fate," he said gravely. "It pulls danger toward you."
Wang Yan nodded. "I understand."
The old man rested his hand on Wang Yan's shoulder, then turned his gaze to Chen Yu, studying him for a moment before speaking.
"If you're walking the same road as this brat," he said gruffly, "then don't call me 'sir.' Call me Grandfather—same as him."
Chen Yu froze for a second, then straightened, his voice earnest.
"Yes… Grandfather."
For an entire month, life settled into a gentle, steady rhythm. Each morning began with training in the open yard, Wang Yan cultivating his soul power while Chen Yu practiced beside him, the old man occasionally correcting their stances with blunt remarks. Afterward, they helped with the day's work—mending tools, carrying water, tending the small plots of land—simple tasks that left their hands sore but their hearts at ease. Evenings were filled with quiet laughter, shared meals, Wang Yan's and his friends Academy life how Chen Yu
Liu Ming and Zhao Qing met and started training together and various stories by the dim light, a warmth Wang Yan hadn't realized he had missed so deeply.
But peaceful days never lingered forever. As the final morning of vacation arrived, the familiar calm carried a different weight. The academy's call awaited them once more, and with it, the path they had chosen—one that would only grow harsher from here on.
The morning they left was quiet. The old man stood at the gate, hands clasped behind his back, watching the two boys shoulder their packs. He didn't say much—only adjusted Wang Yan's collar, then patted Chen Yu's head with a gruff snort, as if words would make the farewell heavier than it already was.
"Train well," he said at last. "And come back alive. That's enough."
Wang Yan bowed deeply, holding the gesture longer than necessary, before turning away. He didn't look back until the house was small in the distance, afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to leave at all.
The road to the academy stretched ahead, familiar yet different somehow. With each step, the warmth of home faded behind them, replaced by resolve. Vacation had ended—but the journey had only just begun.
End of chapter.