Chapter Forty-Nine: An Inexplicable Lesson

When Ye Xin returned home, dawn had already broken. He collapsed into bed and slept straight through to the afternoon. Perhaps it was due to his habit of constantly pondering over matters and overusing his mind, but he had always required a great deal of sleep. Whether rushing across distant battlefields or lying low in Tianyuan City, surrounded by enemies, he would seize any opportunity to rest.

As he opened his eyes, he saw the little purple sable playing with a crystal teacup by the bedside. Noticing Ye Xin was awake, the sable reared up, gazing at him curiously.

Ye Xin reached out and gently stroked its forehead. The little sable seemed to enjoy it immensely, its eyes narrowing in contentment.

In the past, Ye Xin had never been particularly kind to the sable—quick to scold or strike as he pleased. But after the ordeal at Shuangjia Mountain, his attitude had shifted. The sable had rendered invaluable service; although he still didn’t fully understand the countless points of light within the spiritual sea of the Yuan Residence, Ye Xin knew that a formidable cultivator had been devoured there—a boon for him, though he had no way to study it for now.

Moreover, the sable possessed an uncanny insight into objects containing yuan energy, which would surely prove useful in the future.

Just then, Ye Ling hurried in from outside. Seeing her brother awake, she let out a sigh. “Brother, you’re finally up!”

“You’ve come looking for me several times, haven’t you?” Ye Xin smiled.

“How did you know?” Ye Ling was taken aback, still unused to his quick wit.

“It’s a matter of probability. Otherwise, what are the chances you’d show up just as I woke? And you seemed a little annoyed just now.” Ye Xin grinned.

“So you can tell I’m upset?” Ye Ling pouted. “Brother, last night was such an exciting adventure. Why didn’t you take me with you?”

“Exciting, you say…” Ye Xin pulled a wry face. “I knew the clan had deathsworn, but I didn’t know their capabilities or their numbers. If I brought you along, I might not have been able to protect you. And… did you really think it was fun?”

“I…” Ye Ling hesitated. “I’ve trained in martial arts for so long, but I’ve never seen blood. Not even slain a single beast. Instructor Xie says someone like me isn’t qualified to be a true warrior.”

“What else did that guy say?” Ye Xin rubbed his brow.

“He said bloodshed is the most beautiful baptism for a warrior. That when you take a life for the first time, you’ll discover you become utterly different. When…”

“Don’t listen to his nonsense,” Ye Xin shook his head. Outwardly, Xie En seemed affable, but deep down, he was steeped in darkness. In another world, he’d be best suited to founding some grotesque, cruel cult.

From a psychological perspective, most members of the Sin Camp were deeply abnormal—some even driven by unspeakable urges. Sane individuals were rare, which was precisely why Ye Xin insisted on bringing Xue Baiqi into the Ye family: Xue was the paragon of normalcy in the Sin Camp, and with him to keep order, people like Hao Fei would restrain themselves. Otherwise, who knew what disasters they might cause.

This often gave Ye Xin headaches. He had to keep careful track of the mental states of Hao Fei, Xie En, and others—subtly adjusting things without their realizing it. Sometimes he had to use his authority to suppress them; sometimes, he’d force two rivals to cooperate on a task; other times, he’d create the right situation for them to vent their frustrations.

The Sin Camp was made up of condemned prisoners clinging to life, and their personalities were inevitably warped. In fact, it was more abnormal that someone like Xue Baiqi, who still believed in positive values, existed among them.

Take Hao Fei, for instance. Originally from Qiuxi City under the Kingdom of David, he was born to a merchant family that lived comfortably. One day, during renovations, the family unearthed a golden jade boulder with over a hundred yuan stones attached. Hao Fei’s parents were ecstatic, believing it a blessing from their ancestors, but disaster soon struck.

The military governor of Qiuxi City, Song Zidan, accused them of stealing military supplies. No amount of testimony helped. Hao Fei’s parents were executed, his sisters sent to brothels for abuse, and his brothers thrown into the Sin Camp.

Hao Fei had three brothers. All perished within months in the camp—gentlefolk unaccustomed to hardship. Only Hao Fei survived by gritting his teeth.

Ye Xin often tried to fill the Sin Camp inmates with inspirational talk, but it rarely worked. For someone like Hao Fei—who had watched his parents beheaded, his sisters turned into slaves, his brothers die horribly—it was absurd to expect him to believe in the goodness of humanity.

However, Hao Fei did have his strengths. Having suffered so much and rarely received help, he valued gratitude above all else. If he truly believed someone was good to him, he would trust them completely, treating them as a blood brother.

Ye Xin also noticed that these mentally twisted individuals often progressed more quickly in cultivation. Perhaps it was because, being cruel to others, they were even crueller to themselves, enduring hardships that ordinary people could not.

But Ye Xin didn’t want the malice of the condemned to continue festering unchecked; that would only lead to problems. So he chose more circuitous methods to guide them—repeating over and over that combat was a last resort, hoping they would learn to think their way through problems instead of drawing blades at the slightest provocation.

“But I think Instructor Xie is right,” Ye Ling retorted.

Ye Xin couldn’t help but look at her intently. Personality, like the body, matures slowly, and once mature, is hard to change.

The Ye family had fallen on hard times. Ye Guanhai was defeated, Ye Sui Feng imprisoned, Ye Xin missing—leaving only Ye Ling. She had been forced to become strong, both physically and mentally. Ye Xin didn’t know what kinds of affirmations she had given herself during each moment of fear for the family’s future or each time she suffered scorn and ridicule from others.

Her outlook was utterly unlike that of an ordinary fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl. She yearned for battle and did not fear taking life. Her eyes shone brightly, perhaps betraying her aspirations. That shy manner she put on before people like Wenrong was likely just a mask, meant to win sympathy and trust—not to harm anyone, but simply as a means of self-preservation.

Ye Xin felt a twinge of regret—Ye Ling had been led astray by Xie En. He should have sent Xue Baiqi to the Longteng Martial Academy instead. But if Xue Baiqi were busy with the academy, there would be no one left to manage the Ye family…

Never mind. There was still time to correct things. Setting the little sable aside, Ye Xin stood up.

“Brother, don’t eat yet—let’s go to the sitting room. If you don’t, Mother will really get angry,” Ye Ling said.

“What’s going on?” Ye Xin asked.

“There’s a guest. Mother’s been waiting for you.”

“What guest?”

“You’ll see when you get there,” Ye Ling stuck out her tongue.

After tidying himself up, Ye Xin walked with Ye Ling to the sitting room. As they approached, he heard a man and a woman chatting and laughing together inside—the mood seemed harmonious. The woman was naturally Deng Qiaoying; the man’s voice was unfamiliar—husky, slow, each word pronounced clearly.

Entering, Ye Xin saw a man in his early forties and Deng Qiaoying seated in the place of honor, with a tray of fruits on the table. On either side of the room stood several maids—not members of the Ye household. After Ye Sui Feng’s imprisonment, Deng Qiaoying had dismissed the young maids and stewards to save on expenses; it was hopeless to stay with the Ye family. The only ones left were the elderly retainers.

“Xin’er, what took you so long to get up?” Deng Qiaoying’s eyes flickered as she saw him, then she barked, “Well, come pay your respects to Lord Wen!”

Ye Xin’s gaze fell on the middle-aged man—not tall, thin-faced, with a short beard and piercing eyes. He, too, was watching Ye Xin.

“Greetings, Lord Wen,” Ye Xin said respectfully, bowing.

“I hear you got thoroughly drunk last night,” the man said slowly.

“It’s been a long time since I saw my friends, so I drank a little too much,” Ye Xin replied with a forced smile.

“Nonsense!” The man slammed the table. “You’re already eighteen—at the very age to soar to great heights. Instead of working hard, you waste your days in drink and idleness. Truly disappointing!”

Ye Xin was dumbfounded, rolling his eyes inwardly. Who the hell are you, anyway?

“In his day, the Wolf Commander was so valiant!” the man sighed. “Ye Xin, if you continue this way, you’ll shame him even in the afterlife!”

“Lord Wen is right,” Deng Qiaoying murmured.

Ye Xin stood there dumbly, cursing his luck. The man was clearly his elder, and given Deng Qiaoying’s deference, he couldn’t talk back—he’d have to swallow the scolding.

“Second Madam, you must be more diligent in your discipline.” Lord Wen turned to Deng Qiaoying. “As the saying goes, jade uncarved cannot be a gem; a man unlearned knows not virtue. There’s still time for him to mend his ways, but if he continues as before, even if the king tolerates him, he’ll find no place in Jiuding City.”

“Yes, yes…I will certainly be more strict,” Deng Qiaoying replied meekly.

“That’s enough for today,” Lord Wen said, changing the subject. “I must head to the royal city…”

“Lord Wen, about the matter I mentioned…” Deng Qiaoying asked urgently.

“Rest assured, leave it to me,” Lord Wen replied.

“Thank you, Lord Wen!” Deng Qiaoying stood up, visibly moved.

“No need to thank me, Second Madam. I was a close friend of the Wolf Commander. It’s just, alas…” Lord Wen sighed, then rose to take his leave. “I’ll be going now.”