Chapter Two: Courage

One child after another ascended the high platform under the guidance of their parents. Each child needed only to stand beneath the White Jade Soul Mirror; their sea of consciousness would reveal the three souls and seven spirits within the mirror, thereby determining their innate talent.

Those closest to the platform were the children of the master family’s disciples. The first child to mount the stage was a chubby boy with an innocent face. Perhaps it was fear of the unknown, or perhaps curiosity tinged with excitement, but as he stood beneath the White Jade Soul Mirror, his small body trembled constantly.

A beam of white light descended from the mirror, enveloping the boy. The scene within the mirror shifted, presenting a darkness illuminated only by ten faint points of light, barely visible to the naked eye.

“Low aptitude, dim and lackluster,” the three elders—Ye Deyin and his companions—shook their heads, judging the child’s future.

The boy’s father, filled with disappointment, led him down from the platform. The gaze of the crowd made his face burn with embarrassment.

“This child is fortunate, after all. His father is a disciple of the master family; he will never lack food or clothing in his life.”

“If the father holds some status, they can remain in Cloudwater City. Otherwise, they will be sent away.”

People whispered quietly, not daring to speak loudly, nor did anyone mock the child. Those blessed with innate talent were exceedingly rare—less than one in a hundred. The chance was simply too slim.

“If the path of Dao is closed, there is still the way of martial arts. If he succeeds in cultivation, he will be secure.”

“Martial arts are even harder!”

Many shook their heads. In this age where Daoism reigns supreme, martial arts have fallen into decline; few pursue them now.

“Father, what are martial arts?” asked six-year-old Ye Yun, puzzled. He had only ever heard of Daoism while growing up alongside his parents.

“Martial arts are another form of cultivation, requiring no innate talent. Anyone may practice them,” Ye Zili explained with a smile.

Ye Yun scratched his head, still unable to grasp the concept.

The testing proceeded swiftly. A line of children climbed the platform’s steps like a long dragon; as the mirror’s light shone, aptitude was determined instantly.

The first thirty children revealed only dim, lackluster souls—no cultivation potential. Then, a girl’s soul appeared in the White Jade Soul Mirror. Among her three souls and seven spirits, two souls and four spirits shone like candle flames, piercing the darkness.

“Bright as a lamp—sixth-grade aptitude!” The three elders responsible for testing nodded; this was already considered quite good.

When three souls and seven spirits shine, the grade is determined by the number: all ten lit means tenth-grade, the pinnacle at this level.

“Ye Qian, approved!” Ye Deyin loudly announced the name of the first child eligible for Daoist cultivation.

Little Ye Yun, still perched upon his father’s shoulders, gazed in fascination at the girl atop the platform, remembering the name that echoed so brightly that day.

Ye Qian’s parents were overwhelmed with emotion. A master family disciple came to escort them away, arranging everything for them.

The crowd’s eyes brimmed with envy; unconsciously, many tightened their grip on their own children’s hands.

The Soul Mirror testing continued, and indeed, those with talent were rare. When Ye Peng mounted the platform and stood beneath the White Jade Soul Mirror, the three elders—usually calm—suddenly changed expression, rising abruptly.

“Brilliant as fire—seventh-grade aptitude!”

“A genius unseen in a hundred years!”

The elders’ faces were alight with excitement. For three souls and seven spirits to shine like lamps is the threshold for Daoist cultivation—merely ordinary talent. Only those of sixth grade and above warrant special attention.

But when the souls and spirits blaze like fire, it is far rarer. Those with such aptitude are hailed as geniuses appearing once in a century.

“Brilliant as fire, this kind of talent—there have been only five in the Ye family’s centuries-long history in Cloudwater City, and only one reached ninth grade: Ye Haiyi, the current master of the Ye family.”

“This child’s name is Ye Peng? Excellent! He will surely soar like the great roc!”

“The master will be thrilled; this is a genius unseen in a hundred years. He may even teach him personally!”

The elders crowded around Ye Peng, scrutinizing him. The six-year-old, usually proud due to his father’s protection, was now more nervous than ever.

Ye Ziying stood aside, stunned, unable to recover.

“A genius? My son Ye Peng is a genius! Ha ha ha!” Suddenly, he burst out laughing, breaking the solemn silence. No one rebuked him.

A seventh-grade talent, brilliant as fire—his future was boundless. What did it matter if he was a little wild?

“Indeed, you have a fine son!” Ye Deyin glanced at Ye Ziying, then waved a hand. A master family disciple came to escort the pair away.

“Ziying is truly blessed,” Ye Zili remarked with a sigh.

“Heaven is so unfair,” Ye Zicheng lamented.

Ye Peng’s extraordinary aptitude caused a stir throughout the square. It was certain that for many days to come, his name would be the talk of the city.

Yet here, none dared to be as brazen as Ye Ziying, for their children were not Ye Peng.

Soon, another child was found to have an aptitude bright as a lamp, but it was only third grade—quite ordinary.

Disciples of the Ye family master were divided into three ranks: outer, inner, and core disciples.

Those whose souls shone from first to fifth grade were eligible to become outer disciples; sixth to tenth grade could become inner disciples; only those brilliant as fire would become core disciples, guided by the elders themselves, perhaps even the master—destined for greatness.

For instance, Ye Qian could be an inner disciple; Ye Peng would directly become a core disciple.

Time passed, and at last it was Ye Yun’s turn. Ye Zili lifted him down from his shoulders, took his small hand, and walked to the White Jade Soul Mirror.

Surrounded by the crowd, all eyes turned toward him, making Ye Yun nervous.

“Don’t be afraid, Yun’er. Go stand under the mirror,” Ye Zili encouraged, pinching his little cheek. “Remember what I taught you—how should a boy behave?”

“A boy should be brave! Yun’er isn’t afraid.” Ye Yun clenched his tiny fists and stepped forward, standing beneath the White Jade Soul Mirror.

Ye Zili felt his heart tremble; he knew the moment had come to decide his son's fate.

A hum resounded. White light descended from the mirror, enveloping Ye Yun. A warm sensation made him feel as though nestled in his mother’s embrace; he closed his eyes in enjoyment.

The White Jade Soul Mirror hovered above his head, its surface rippling. First came darkness—the sea of consciousness yet unopened—then the three souls and seven spirits appeared, the souls above, spirits below, arrayed clearly.

Suddenly, all three souls and seven spirits shone together, like candle flames illuminating the sea of consciousness.

“Bright as a lamp—tenth-grade aptitude!” The elders’ eyes lit up. Had it not been for Ye Peng’s brilliant as fire, Ye Yun’s aptitude would have been seen as a rare genius.

Yet, bright as a lamp was still not brilliant as fire—a single grade apart, yet worlds of difference.

“Tenth-grade aptitude is rare indeed, called flawless and perfect, with great potential,” Ye Deyin said with a smile. “He will become an inner disciple; some elder in the clan will surely take him as a pupil.”

“Thank you… thank you…” Ye Zili was nervous, his heart surging with excitement.

Ye Deyin, accustomed to such scenes, paid little mind and waved his hand. A master family disciple came over, escorting Ye Zili and Ye Yun down from the platform to await the master family’s arrangements.

Behind Ye Yun was his cousin Ye Xian, daughter of his second uncle Ye Zicheng, who followed a young disciple away. The father and son looked back, seeing the anxious little Ye Xian standing beneath the White Jade Soul Mirror on that fateful platform.

“Brilliant as fire—third-grade aptitude!”

The crowd erupted once more. The three elders were visibly moved; two geniuses appearing in a single year, unseen in a century—this was a momentous blessing for the Ye family!

Ye Zili was dazed for a moment, then a smile crept across his lips. He murmured, “Zicheng is fortunate as well.”

Compared to his opportunistic younger brother, he and his second brother had grown up enduring hardships together; he was genuinely happy for him.

“This year is truly overflowing with talent—brilliant as fire, a rarity in a hundred years, and to have two at once!”

The master family disciple leading Ye Zili and his son was equally amazed. As an outer disciple himself, his gaze was full of envy, jealousy, and other complex emotions.

Children who passed the Soul Mirror test, along with their parents, were led to dwellings according to their aptitude. There, the master family’s stewards would arrange everything.

“Bright as a lamp, tenth-grade aptitude—a rare talent. You’ll be assigned a residence in Cloudwater City; report to the Ye mansion early tomorrow morning,” the portly steward said with a smile, his small eyes narrowed into slits, giving him a cheerful look.

A middle-aged servant stepped forward, respectfully bowing to Ye Zili and his son. “I will lead the master and young master to their residence.”

Ye Zili was a bit flustered. Born in Green Temple Village, he had spent twenty years at the lowest rung of society—never had he been treated with such reverence. Ye Yun, still young, only felt indifferent.

Yet Ye Zili was not one to lose control of his emotions; the sudden change in circumstances simply left him momentarily unaccustomed.

He took a deep breath, his gaze clearing and growing calm. “Lead the way.”

At the same time, he stroked Ye Yun’s hair, smiling as he picked him up. “Yun’er, say goodbye to Uncle Steward.”

“Goodbye, Uncle Steward!” Ye Yun waved his tiny hand, calling out obediently.

“What a well-behaved boy, easy to like,” the steward waved back, watching Ye Zili and his son depart.

“If only all children were so obedient nowadays. What was that other boy’s name?… Damn, wasn’t he the one with brilliant as fire, seventh-grade aptitude? He didn’t even acknowledge his steward grandfather!” The portly steward muttered to himself.

“Ye Yun? This child is promising. I’ll remember him.” He nodded, sipping tea from the wooden table before him.

Just then, another master family disciple brought more children who had passed the Soul Mirror test. The steward’s small eyes narrowed once more.

“This year is remarkable—usually only two or three pass the test, but this is already the fifth!”

“Haha, indeed. Steward Wubao, you may not know, but this girl is another genius unseen in a hundred years…” the leading disciple explained as he approached.