Yinmo's return to the clan manor was met with an atmosphere of wary expectancy. The chill of early morning still clung to the stone corridors as he stepped through the great entrance. Word of his absence had spread rapidly—and now, with his secret safely stowed beneath his carefully measured calm, he was forced to answer for his time away.
In the main hall, the clan elder rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the Second Young Master. "Where have you been, Yinmo?" he demanded, his voice low and edged with disapproval.
Yinmo bowed his head in respectful submission before speaking. "Elder, I was waylaid by a pack of wild pigs," he said, his tone measured. To the assembled onlookers, his words conjured images of marauding magical beasts; yet, in the knowing glance shared by Lei Xuan in the back of the room, it was clear that Yinmo's metaphor did more than merely describe danger—it carried a subtle, biting comparison.
He continued, "At the moment when the pigs closed in, my life hung by a thread. In that desperate, near-death instant, I felt a vague surge of energy envelop me. It was then that my essence gathering system awakened."
A shocked murmur rippled through the hall. Eyes widened in disbelief as the words sank in. How could a boy whose prior tests had declared him talentless now proclaim the awakening of power?
"Prove it," snarled the clan elder with a steely gaze. "It is impossible for one so bereft of magical affinity to suddenly awaken such power."
Yinmo inhaled deeply. In that charged moment, with a calm borne of desperate necessity, he channeled his inner strength and released a small, bright spark of wood Qi from his fingertip. The spark shivered in the still air—a subtle, yet unmistakable glow that defied conventional expectations.
A collective gasp filled the room. Even Lei Xuan, who had long dismissed Yinmo's potential, leaned forward with astonishment. "How is this possible?" he challenged. "I recall testing his magic—he registered as having no affinity at all."
The clan elder's sneer deepened as he replied, "Clearly, his natural aptitude is so low that even the magical globe could not detect it—in other words, his talent is below average." His tone, dripping with condescension, belied the calculating glint in his eyes. Pausing, he forced a false smile. "Nevertheless, congratulations on your... awakening, Yinmo. But be warned—you are to remain a herb gatherer for now. Should you, by the age of twelve, reach the third stage of Qi gathering, you may enroll at the Shallow Stream Academy."
He continued, "Shallow Stream Academy is reserved for those with only average cultivation, where even mediocrity is the norm. I hardly expect someone with such low aptitude to achieve the third stage in two short years." His words, casual yet cruel, echoed in the stunned silence of the room.
Bowing his head once more, Yinmo murmured his thanks to the clan elder and requested to take his leave. With a dismissive wave of the hand from the elder, Yinmo quietly exited the hall.
After a long while, in the quieter corridors, the twin sisters emerged from their private chambers. Mingzhu—the mature, steady twin with a solid wood affinity—and her sensitive sister Shuiyun, whose water affinity was evident in the glistening tears in her eyes, moved slowly along the corridor, whispering among themselves.
"Have you noticed how brazen Big Brother Lei has become?" Shuiyun remarked with a low tone laced with discontent. "He even openly invited us for a private banquet before the clan elder…"
Mingzhu offered a small, rueful smile. "Yes, and you handled his invitation with much tact. It's impressive—you managed to reject his advances without causing a scene."
After a pause, Mingzhu lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. "Tell me, did you sense anything unusual when Yinmo released that spark of Qi?"
Shuiyun frowned softly and shook her head. "I must confess, I sensed nothing beyond what was expected. Perhaps my own wood nature drowned out any subtle differences." Yet, her eyes betrayed a hint of uncertainty.
Mingzhu's gaze sharpened. "I swear, his Qi seemed unusually dense—denser even than mine. How is it that someone with such low natural aptitude could produce an aura that potent?"
They walked in a thoughtful silence for several moments. Finally, Shuiyun hesitated and then pleaded, "Mingzhu, please—could you copy some passages from your cultivation book in the clan library and give them to Yinmo? Perhaps if he had some guidance, even he could refine his techniques."
Mingzhu initially shook her head, her voice tinged with reluctant certainty. "I doubt it would do him any good. I firmly believe Yinmo is too untalented to reach the third stage in two short years—the bar is simply too high."
But as Shuiyun's gentle pleading grew more insistent, Mingzhu's resolve wavered. With a bitter sigh, she relented, "Fine. I will copy the sections that might be of any use. We must try, at least for his sake."
Thus, as whispered conversations faded into the quiet of the manor corridors, the seeds of intrigue and subdued hope were sown. Although the clan believed Yinmo to be nothing more than an insignificant herb gatherer with below-average talent, the spark of his Qi—dense, potent, and defiant—hinted at a secret strength far beyond their expectations. In that charged moment, each soul present was left to wonder just what hidden power might yet lie within the unassuming Second Young Master.