Meanwhile, within the unique dimension of the Tomb of the God of Herbs, Han Ming and Duan Lingchen stood face-to-face amid the lingering essence of spiritual herb energy that permeated the air.
With a gentle flick of Han Ming's hand, a stream of memories surged forth from Ye Lin's body.
Scenes from the past projected into the air, overlaying one another like veils of shadow that revealed the entirety of Ye Lin's life from the beginning up to the moment his mind was twisted.
At that time, Ye Lin was still just a young boy. A child born with a talent so extraordinary that even the heavens turned to glance his way. His path should have been one of brilliance, filled with praise and reverence.
But fate took another turn.
After his cultivation suddenly collapsed for unknown reasons, Ye Lin, who had once been the shining star of his clan, was cast aside like worthless trash. The people who once spoke his name with admiration now looked at him with disdain and contempt, flooding him with scornful gazes each day.
Only a few remained by his side... his grandmother, and his father, who at the time was the clan head. They still believed in Ye Lin's potential and sought to restore his power by any means necessary, even at the cost of reputation and status. But in the end, no solution could be found.
Years passed. During his deepest despair, a voice echoed from within his ring. Inside it appeared the soul of a woman, Hua Jinru a woman who had once possessed a powerful cultivation. She had lain dormant within the ring, silently absorbing Ye Lin's cultivation throughout the years. And that moment marked the beginning of Ye Lin's return to the path of a genius.
He grew. He became stronger. He helped others with a gentle smile. Ye Lin was a humble cultivator, respectful to all, untouched by romantic entanglements. He was like a clear mirror, reflecting the purity of a true cultivator.
But his path crumbled once again… when he encountered Wu Zhao within the secret realm, everything changed.
That man seemed to harbor a deep-seated grudge against Ye Lin for no apparent reason. He used his power and the influence of the Wu Clan to gradually destroy Ye Lin's reputation, slandering him, framing him, painting him as a demon in the eyes of others.
At the time, no matter how strong Ye Lin was, being pressured from all sides both from within and without he slowly began to change. The heart that once trusted others gradually hardened, grew cold, until everyone began to distance themselves from him… even Hua Jinru turned her back on him as well.
In the memory projection, Han Ming and Duan Lingchen noticed it too a thread, so thin it was nearly invisible, linking Ye Lin's mind to that of Wu Zhao.
"A thread that drains fate and acts as a chain of control, is it?" Han Ming murmured softly, a faint smile curling at his lips.
The next scene showed Ye Lin under Wu Zhao's complete control, unable to resist his commands. He was ordered to kill everyone in his clan, including his own father and grandmother. The sword in his hand that once protected them had become the very weapon that took their lives.
When he struck down the ones who had loved him most… his eyes remained empty, devoid of all emotion.
Those images came flooding back again the moment he broke free from that control severed by Han Ming's words. The binding thread snapped.
Ye Lin collapsed to the ground, blood surging in his chest. Guilt, hatred, and the curse of his past all of it rushed into his heart like a raging sea. Afterward, he was rescued by a great elder from the Holy Land of the Immortal River, who turned out to be his own grandfather. That elder had now become a spy embedded within the Wu Clan.
Once rescued, Ye Lin kept his vengeance hidden deep within, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike back at Wu Zhao. Yet Wu Zhao was always surrounded by members of the Golden Crow Dynasty, making it impossible for Ye Lin to even get close.
The next memory revealed Wu Wen ordering Ye Lin to search for herbs to treat Wu Zhao. And the final image showed Ye Lin ruthlessly killing members of the Wu Clan inside this very Hidden Tomb, just before being brought here by Han Ming.
…
…
After a while, Ye Lin awakened from the dreamlike visions. He turned to look at Han Ming and Duan Lingchen who were still standing there watching him.
Suddenly, he dropped to his knees and bowed deeply, his forehead slamming hard against the ground.
"Thank you, Elder Han… and thank you, Ancestor, for this opportunity," Ye Lin said in a trembling voice, laced with sobs, yet carrying undeniable resolve.
"If I survive and return… I swear to the heavens, I will serve you until the final breath leaves my body."
Han Ming gave a faint smile, then looked at Ye Lin with firm eyes.
"Enough. Don't say anything more. Focus on comprehending the knowledge you've received."
Tears welled up and fell silently down Ye Lin's cheeks. He bowed again and spoke once more.
"Thank you, Elder Han."
Duan Lingchen, observing the scene, couldn't help but think to himself,
"Was it me or him who passed down this legacy to you? I'm starting to have doubts."
As Ye Lin remained immersed in his state of enlightenment, Duan Lingchen turned once more.
"I entrust to you all the spiritual herbs in this secret realm, along with the fragments of memory containing the essence of everything I've learned throughout my life. I also grant you the authority to control all things within this tomb. Thank you for your help. But… I have one request, which may sound selfish."
Han Ming listened calmly to Duan Lingchen's words.
"Would you look after Ye Lin for me? Or… if it's not too much to ask, would you consider accepting him as your disciple?"
Han Ming smiled faintly. Yet instead of replying directly, he asked something in return.
"There's still something missing within him. But tell me… don't you have any desire for revenge?"
Duan Lingchen fell silent for a moment before replying in a calm, detached voice.
"Revenge? My soul is already on the verge of dissipating. My true body has long since exhausted its lifespan, and even the herbs in this place aren't enough to preserve my soul in the slightest. More importantly, have you forgotten? The only reason I'm still here is because you lent me your power. If you hadn't awakened me two days ago, I would have continued slumbering until I simply faded away."
Han Ming gave a faint smile.
"But you still have this hidden tomb, don't you? And weren't you the one who summoned the geniuses of the Upper Realm here yourself?"
Duan Lingchen replied, "You're the one who told me to do it, didn't you? Enough. What is your real objective?"
Han Ming smiled before speaking.
"You just need to absorb the cultivation of those who came here. That will be more than enough to restore yourself. After some calculations, their blood will sustain you for at least another year of comfortable living. And though their souls might escape and reincarnate, I have a way to ensure that their rebirth won't occur for at least a month. That should give us more than enough time to disappear."
Duan Lingchen said nothing, but in his dim eyes, a faint spark of light flickered.
He floated silently in midair, emotions clashing within his chest until no words could escape. After a while, he finally spoke, his voice soft yet steady.
"No… I cannot do that."
The old man's gaze drifted off into the distance.
"Some of the people who came here have nothing to do with the destruction of my clan. I don't want to cross that line. I don't want to kill the innocent indiscriminately…"
Han Ming let out a soft breath. His eyes were still, and his voice that followed was chillingly cold.
"But among those people… some were indeed part of the annihilation of your clan like those from the Ten Thousand Heavens Alliance."
Duan Lingchen fell silent. "..."
Han Ming continued, "Have you never wondered, on the day your clan was destroyed, where all those so-called uninvolved people disappeared to? And now, on this day, when you're ready to pass your legacy on to your descendants, those very same people dare to show their faces here as if nothing happened. When you were of no use to them, when your kin needed help, not a single one of them was there. And now that you hold something valuable, they come shamelessly asking for their share? Is that what you call fairness?"
Duan Lingchen fell silent, as if strangled by a truth he didn't wish to confront. His heart seethed with a rage he was struggling to suppress from spilling out in response to Han Ming's words.
"Perhaps…" he spoke slowly, "perhaps they didn't know. Or… perhaps they simply weren't strong enough to do anything."
Han Ming looked up, his gaze glinting with a chilling light.
"Have you forgotten?"
"When the ten of you sacrificed yourselves to seal away the Bloodfiend Clan, trading your lives to protect countless other races…"
"Who was it that drove the first blade into your back?"
"The Bloodfiend Clan?"
"The Three-Eyed Clan?"
"The Dragon Clan?"
"It was the humans. And not just any humans, but those you knew well. The ones you once protected. The comrades who had once fought beside you turned out to be the very ones who exterminated your clan and the clan of my disciple, all while weaving filthy lies to brand you as traitors who had conspired with the Bloodfiends, inciting the entire world to hate you blindly."
"That wasn't just betrayal. That was trampling on your corpses with their own feet, grinding your names into the dirt."
"You protected countless people who, now, don't even remember your name."
"They call you a traitor to the human race… they call your descendants filthy-blooded, and they've placed bounties on the heads of the few survivors, urging the entire world to hunt them down."
"Have you forgotten that this is a world of cultivation? Power is law. Mercy is merely offering someone else a blade, never knowing whether it will be used to stab you."
"You should stop forcing yourself to become what this world never once asked of you."
Duan Lingchen continued to float in silence. Not a word left his lips. But his eyes began to tremble faintly.
Han Ming didn't stop speaking.
"They repaid mercy with betrayal."
"When the descendants of the Ye Clan cried for help… who turned back to answer them?"
"No one. Not a single person."
"Even those whose lives had once been saved by my disciple chose silence—or worse, joined in the annihilation of the Ye Clan."
Duan Lingchen still said nothing… but in his eyes, where the flames had once died out, a faint glimmer of light reappeared. Then, the old man let out a quiet laugh, a subtle gleam returning to his gaze.
"Sigh… very well. I no longer care how you intend to use me. Tell me, what is your plan?"