Wang Yan and Chen Yu stepped through the academy gates in the afternoon, the familiar stone paths and towering halls greeting them once more. As students from the same courtyard, their return was quickly noted, and they headed straight for the attendance hall to register their arrival.
Inside, the hall was calm and orderly. Wang Yan handed over his student token, the elder recording his return with a nod. When Chen Yu followed, he asked casually, "Our courtyard mates should be back already, right?"
The elder paused briefly before answering. "Liu Ming and Zhao Qing returned earlier today."
After leaving the hall, they walked toward their courtyard. The closer they got, the quieter it became. The usual sounds of training were absent, replaced by an unsettling stillness. Liu Ming stood near the entrance, arms crossed, posture rigid. Zhao Qing sat nearby, head lowered, hands resting on his knees.
Chen Yu slowed his steps. "This isn't normal," he muttered.
Wang Yan nodded. "They're tense. Something happened."
As they approached, Liu Ming looked up. His expression was tight and restrained, far from his usual composure. Zhao Qing did not move, his gaze fixed on the ground, as the heavy silence of the courtyard closed in around them.
Wang Yan stepped closer, his voice calm but firm.
"Liu… tell us clearly. What happened?"
Liu Ming took a deep breath. "Ten days ago, Zhao Qing reached my hometown," he said slowly. "He was badly injured. His clothes were torn, stained with blood. He couldn't even speak properly."
Zhao Qing stood beside him, head lowered, silent from beginning to end.
Liu Ming continued, "His entire town was discovered to be sitting on a gold mine. Three dominating families in that town found out. Each of them controls multiple Soul Masters—and even Soul Ancestors around the forty-second to forty-third rank."
"They didn't want the news to spread," Liu Ming said, his voice tightening. "So they decided to erase the source."
Chen Yu's breath caught.
"They demanded the land," Liu Ming went on. "But when the townspeople refused, the families attacked. Not just a few homes—the whole town was slaughtered. Anyone who could speak… was killed."
Zhao Qing's fists trembled slightly, but he still did not raise his head.
"Zhao's father hid him at the last moment," Liu Ming said quietly. "He pushed him out through a hidden route and told him to run. That's the only reason he's standing here now."
A heavy silence fell.
"A few surviving Soul Ancestors escaped and went to Green Pearl City," Liu Ming continued. "They tried to report everything to the City Lord."
His eyes darkened. "But the City Lord was already in league with those families."
Wang Yan's gaze turned cold.
"They were all killed," Liu Ming said. "To silence them."
He clenched his jaw. "Then false spirit-beast attack scenes were arranged, evidence destroyed, so that inspectors from the state capital would believe the town fell to an accident."
"All of it," Liu Ming finished, voice low, "was done for gold."
Zhao Qing remained silent throughout, shoulders trembling faintly—grief too heavy for words to carry.
Liu Ming lowered his voice, the weight of his words making even the courtyard feel heavier.
"They are the three dominating families of Qinghe Town—the Mo Family, the Han Family, and the Wei Family," he said slowly. "On the surface, they are merchants and landowners, but in reality, each controls multiple Soul Masters and has a strong private force. They rule the town with absolute authority."
He glanced at Zhao Qing, who remained silent, head lowered, shoulders trembling faintly.
"Each family has at least one Soul Ancestor, some even stronger, backing them," Liu Ming continued. "Together, they crushed anyone who resisted. When the gold mine was discovered, there was no negotiation—only slaughter."
He took a deep breath, then added, "A few surviving Soul Ancestors tried to report it to Green Pearl City, hoping the City Lord would act."
Chen Yu frowned. "And he…?"
"He didn't help," Liu Ming said grimly. "The City Lord, He Yunlong, is a level forty-eight Soul Ancestor, one of the strongest in the city. He has two trusted assistants—Jin Lei, at level forty-five, and Fang Rui, at level forty-four—both veteran Soul Ancestors who have served him for years. When Qinghe Town's survivors reached him, none were spared. He Yunlong covered the massacre, working together with the three families, arranging false spirit-beast attacks and fabricated battle sites so the inspectors from the state capital would see nothing."
Zhao Qing's fists clenched, but he still remained silent, the grief and rage too heavy for words.
"All of it…" Liu Ming finished quietly, "was for gold."
The courtyard felt colder than ever, the air thick with unspoken anger and sorrow.
Wang Yan stepped closer to Zhao Qing, placing a firm hand on his trembling shoulder. "Zhao Qing," he said gently, his voice steady and unwavering, "I know this grief… the loss of your family, your town, and everything you've held dear—it's unbearable. No words can ease it."
Zhao Qing's head remained lowered, but a faint tremor in his fists betrayed the storm of emotions within.
Wang Yan continued, voice firm yet calm, "But hear me—your father's sacrifice, and the innocent lives taken… they will not be forgotten. This isn't the time to strike back. Right now, we aren't strong enough. If we rush, we'll only fall like they did."
He glanced at Liu Ming and Chen Yu, who stood silently, understanding the weight of his words. "We face this together. I promise you, when the time comes, the people who caused this will answer for every life they've taken. But first… we must grow stronger. Every day, every fight, every challenge—they are all steps toward that day."
Slowly, Zhao Qing lifted his head. His eyes, still red-rimmed, met Wang Yan's. "You… really think we can do it?" he asked, voice breaking.
Wang Yan's gaze hardened, yet a small, encouraging smile tugged at his lips. "Yes. Together, we can. We'll train, we'll grow, and when the time is right… the guilty will pay for everything they've done."
A quiet resolve settled over the courtyard. Though grief still lingered, Zhao Qing's shoulders no longer shook as violently. The seed of determination had been planted—one that would grow with every battle, every step toward the strength they needed.
After Wang Yan's words, Zhao Qing finally took a deep breath, still heavy with grief but steadied by resolve. That evening, the four friends—Wang Yan, Zhao Qing, Chen Yu, and Liu Ming—rested quietly, each lost in their own thoughts about the tragedy and the strength they would need. By the next morning, they began training together with renewed determination. Swords flashed, fists struck, and spirit power flowed as they pushed themselves harder than ever. Days passed, their skills steadily improving, and their resolve grew sharper with each session—they knew they had to become powerful before facing the forces that had destroyed Qinghe Town.
End of Chapter .