*Bang, Bang, Bang*
As the night watchman made his rounds, his wooden clappers echoed through the stillness of the night, punctuating the air with a rhythmic cadence.
The sharp staccato of his patrol reverberated through the narrow alleyways, penetrating the walls of the towering pillar houses.
Most residents were jolted from their slumber, the abrupt sound demanding their attention.
But there were some who remained wide awake throughout the night, whether gripped by fear of the uncertain future or burdened by the weight of their past...
...or preoccupied with their plans for the present moment.
.
.
.
In the bustling Gu Yue village, streets teemed with youths streaming in a singular direction, their collective energy infusing a festive air wherever they tread.
The youths were relieved the spring rain had finally ceased, allowing the air to be permeated with a fragrant blend of earth, trees, and wildflowers. Surveying their surroundings, one couldn't help but marvel at the tall houses crafted from green bamboo and wood, starkly contrasting against the verdant mountain backdrop, which stretched out like a sea of pale green.
The scene seemed peaceful, but one with a trained eye could see beneath the veneer of peace. An undercurrent of crippling anxiety gripped the youths, particularly those from impoverished backgrounds. Despite the smiles and laughter, they harbored a gnawing fear of judgment, acutely aware that their perceived lack of talent could consign them to lives as mere mortals—vulnerable and expendable, easily dispatched by anyone with the desire to do so. In this world of Gu, where strength reigned supreme, the specter of inadequacy loomed large, casting shadows over their hopes and dreams.
So, they clung to companionship, mingling even with strangers as they trudged forward in small clusters toward their destination. Engaging in banal banter, they sought to silence their inner turmoil, if only momentarily.
"Hey, look, it's the Fang brothers," One of the youths suddenly exclaimed, his voice cutting through the surrounding crowd. "That guy leading the way is Fang Yuan, you know, the one who's famous for his poetry..." they emphasized, their voices tinged with admiration.
As if scripted, a surge of chatter erupted among the group, spurred on by the mention of the clan's genius.
"So that's him," remarked one of the youths, observing Fang Yuan with a hint of awe. "His face is expressionless, just like the rumors say, as if he has no regard for others...."
The crowd couldn't contain their expressions of envy or admiration toward the figure destined to become the backbone of the clan, marveling at his steely gaze and cold demeanor.
Alas, strangely enough, there was one among them who didn't spare a single glance toward the commotion. He strolled forward leisurely, alone, a warm smile adorning his face and with his gaze pointed towards the sky as if daydreaming. He was a scrawny teen with short brown hair and below-average looks, his visage marred by prominent bruises and his tattered garments stained with blood.
Truthfully, if he looked any worse, even beggars might have offered him food.
Of course, it was Gu Yue Qin, still observing the invisible threads of fate attempting to bind him, unbothered by the noisy sheep around him. After hours of vigilant observation throughout the night, he could finally ascertain that the main body's preparations were working as predicted.
With a mental shift akin to flipping a switch, the demon inhabiting Qin's form turned his vision inward, focusing on his very essence. If a normal cultivator were to perform such an action, they would be able to visualize their inner aperture. However, Qin's body, being that of a simple mortal, did not possess such a thing within itself.
The demon, however, was searching for something else entirely...his own soul.
Instantly, he could faintly discern an ethereal, wispy purple gaseous substance coursing throughout his body, akin to how blood circulates through vessels.
While aesthetically impressive, its strength had once been significantly higher, akin to that of a desolate soul. Unfortunately, it had dwindled to a mere 10-man soul, its diminished state rendering the once almost solid substance into gas.
'But the refinement was a success, and that is all that matters' the demon thought with a smile as he watched the threads of fate, the product of a weakened Rank Nine Legendary Gu, unravel as they attempted to grip his body. They melted like ice touching a stove when nearing the wispy purple gas that was his soul...
If anyone were to witness such a scene, mortal or Venerable alike, they would be horrified by the spectacle before them. Not merely due to the ability to evade the grasp of fate—after all, as Red Lotus demonstrated in the past, such feats were challenging but not impossible.
No...what truly rendered this scene beyond comprehension was the fact that the melted threads appeared to be absorbed by the soul, nourishing it in the process!
Fate Devouring Soul Gu — a gu specially crafted by Negary, the Demon of the Void, and bestowed upon his split soul clone to shield it from the interference of fate, while simultaneously harnessing its power...
'But right now, it can barely shield me from the whims of fate...the absorption rate is so pathetic that even if I stayed in this world for a billion years, I wouldn't be able to absorb even a fraction of the power of fate...still, what can one expect from a Rank 1 gu'
It was already a literal heaven-defying treasure, destined to grow stronger in the future... as long as he managed to remain alive...
By now, the light of dawn had peeked over the horizon. The sun rose gradually, casting its golden glow upon the land. Qin's eyes regained their clarity as their owner snapped out of his reverie. With a warm, approachable smile still gracing his face, his eyes wandered over the crowd of youths walking alongside him, their banter and laughter filling the air.
"Would this herd be enough for me to reach Rank 2, I wonder..." He softly whispered, his words carried away by the wind, unheard by anyone but the breeze.