Eighty-eight

Ye Yin sat at her desk, turning the pages of the “Compendium of Great Witchcraft,” her mind and spirit wholly absorbed; she didn’t even notice when Ye Hua knocked to call her for dinner.

With every ascension in her cultivation, the insights she gleaned from this book would improve by an entire level. When she had first become a shaman, the secret arts available to her were nothing more than basic, common spells. After advancing to spirit shaman, she was able to master and interweave various branches of witchcraft, even developing her own unique spells, considering the true circumstances under which they should be used.

Now, having reached the rank of earth shaman, her reading of the compendium revealed not just secret arts, but the most profound mysteries within the five elements of the universe.

For instance, the “Five Elements Mastery,” an advanced secret art that had once baffled her, was essential for progressing from earth shaman to greater shaman. Yet, the book offered neither instructions nor required materials—only long, lavish descriptions of how formidable the spell could be, which had left Ye Yin coveting it in vain. Now, with her new perspective, she soon understood.

The so-called Five Elements Mastery referred to the ultimate state: to control all five elemental forces—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—within oneself, thus attaining mastery.

In ancient times, achieving this state was no simple feat. Few among the shamans were naturally born with the bodies of five elements; most could only reach a semblance of harmony through arduous cultivation and the aid of magical treasures, barely managing to unify the elements within themselves. Back then, there were no special abilities; progress in cultivation was as slow as among today’s spiritual practitioners, and crossing into other elemental disciplines was even harder. Even reaching harmony among the five elements required considerable fortune, let alone achieving full mastery, which was a distant dream. By comparison, it was quicker and safer to specialize in one branch. Thus, over time, the Five Elements Mastery became a neglected pursuit, regarded as a useless endeavor; in later generations, few among the shamans had even heard of it.

Once again, Ye Yin felt as if fate were leading her by the nose.

The Refining Field, the ability to copy powers, the “Compendium of Great Witchcraft”—countless invisible hands seemed to have guided her step by step to this path, quietly arranging the course she would follow and the destination she must reach.

Perhaps, from the very beginning, no matter what kind of fish she had caught from that sea—be it the jeweled fish or those of gold and silver—they were all “Compendium of Great Witchcraft.” The countless choices were nothing but a cosmic jest, making her believe she had a say, that everything was determined by chance.

She didn’t believe in coincidences. The ancient shamans lacked supernatural abilities; modern cultivators lacked the right treasures and constitutions. She possessed both. As a fire wielder, with a sister who could copy water abilities, and with the Refining Field and power-copying gifts bestowed by the countless invisible hands, gathering all five elemental powers wasn’t so difficult. Upgrading them all to the tenth tier was merely a matter of time and effort.

Ye Hua, having knocked several times with no reply, had hesitated so as not to disturb Ye Yin but, growing worried that something might be wrong, finally steeled herself and turned the handle to the study. “Sister?”

“Yes?” Ye Yin turned around. “What is it?”

“Honestly, if you weren’t asleep you could have answered me,” Ye Hua grumbled. “Lunch is ready. Come down and eat.”

“All right.”

Ye Yin went downstairs with Ye Hua and took her seat at the table.

“Master, someone from the club just came by,” Pi said as he arranged Ye Yin’s utensils. “They said there’s an urgent matter to discuss.”

“I see.” Something occurred to Ye Yin and she asked, “That person—was he in any danger?”

“No, I’ve already assigned Gale to protect him in secret,” Pi replied with a smile. “After all, he’s the first piece in this game. We can’t afford to lose him, can we?”

“With Ye Yu’s personality, she’s bound to investigate this supposed sweetheart of mine,” Ye Yin said, smiling. “Let’s just wait for her to discover exactly what we want her to.”

“No business talk at the table,” Ye Hua reproved, dishing Ye Yin her meal and scolding Pi as well. “Didn’t you teach me that? How come you’re the first to forget?”

“Yes, yes, the little princess is right. Let’s just eat in peace,” Pi replied cheerfully.

After the meal, Ye Yin left the house and made her way leisurely to Spring Snow.

No sooner had she entered than she noticed the odd atmosphere; the normally boisterous club fell instantly silent. Ming Shi and Ah Hui, in particular, avoided her gaze, and several of the new young men forgot about their cards and simply stared.

“Why do you all look as if you’ve seen a ghost? Has the commander been spreading rumors of my death again?” Ye Yin tossed her coat over her arm and sat at the bar, tapping her finger lightly on the counter. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

“Deputy Manager… you…”

Zhiqiu emerged from the inner hall and, seeing Ye Yin, hesitated for a moment, his expression complicated—though not with astonishment or delight.

It was only then that Ye Yin belatedly recalled her “cosmetic surgery” and coughed awkwardly. “During my recent breakthrough to eighth-tier abilities, there was a mishap—I ended up burning my own face. The surgeon took the liberty of making a few changes while repairing the damage. Could you not all stare at me as if I were an alien? At least I wasn’t turned into a dog.”

“I’d almost prefer you were, Deputy Manager—it’d be adorable,” Ming Shi scratched his head. “But this sudden surge in beauty is a bit much; it feels like you’re out of reach now.”

“Shut up. You want surgery, I’ll do it for you—free of charge.” Ye Yin chuckled and scolded him. “So, what’s so important you called me here?”

“The Association headquarters has ordered all ability users to report to Base One within a month,” Zhiqiu said, sitting beside her. “I don’t know the reason myself.”

Ye Yin was taken aback.

Zhiqiu was now an association supervisor—if even he was in the dark, it must be a highly sensitive matter.

“All ability users?” she asked.

“Yes, regardless of whether they’re in the military.” Zhiqiu looked uneasy. “There was no prior consultation with any base governments. This could cause obstruction, even open conflict.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’ll go back and investigate,” Zhiqiu replied. “Many here are in the military, and for you especially, it won’t be easy to extricate yourself.”

“This is a real nuisance.” Ye Yin quickly calculated her options. “Does everyone know about this?”

“Yes, the ability user radio and training centers have already sent out notices. It’s about to become the talk of the town.”

Ye Yin propped her chin on her hand, her thoughts drifting. In the original novel, the reason the Association rushed to recall its members was because a radical faction had mastered a top-secret method for optimizing abilities; they used this leverage to interfere in the Association’s affairs, seeking more power to challenge the military and even the government. The rift had little to do with Commander Zhuo at Base One—it was mainly with the Capital Base, where the relationship with the Association had grown so strained that open conflict seemed imminent.

But in the novel, the recall was handled discreetly, so as not to alert anyone, and the process was drawn out. Why, then, was everything so blatant and provocative now? Where had things gone awry?

The Capital Base was always stirring up trouble, never missing a chance to meddle wherever there was conflict. Still, in such a climate of internal and external threats, how would Ye Yu respond?

Ye Yu’s reaction was faster than Ye Yin expected. She immediately sealed all the base gates, posted heavy guards, and ordered that any ability user attempting to leave was to be killed on sight.

At the same time, Ye Yu delivered a public address, criticizing the Association’s reckless disregard for the greater good, and sent telegrams to the other bases, urging them to unite in resistance against this idiocy. She also improved the benefits and compensation for ability users, promising that those who remained in the base for three years would be granted permanent military rank, with their families receiving equal privileges.

This combination of tough and generous policies won over most ability users, who chose to support the base rather than return to the Association. Many had already put down roots at Base Three, with families, children, and stable social standing; they had no wish to start over in an unfamiliar place.

“How are things at the base these days?” Ye Yin asked languidly as she reclined on a couch in the teahouse atop Yushuihuan, addressing the mute little maid who attended to Chestnut.

“Reporting to you, madam, the commander has been very busy, constantly contacting people,” the mute maid unexpectedly replied aloud. “Xiao Tao got some information out of a drunken department head—it seems the matter has been resolved.”

“I see…” Ye Yin mused. Chestnut poured her a drink and smiled. “What’s the relationship between the new madam and you? She seems to go out of her way to look after us sisters.”

Chestnut and her close friends not only poured wine and fanned Ye Yin, but also served as her eyes and ears, discreetly feeding her intelligence from various sources.

After the recent fiasco involving Ruan Hao and the others, Alliance Leader Song had been forced to flee with his followers to Base Five, where he allied with the Mu family and seized control. Mao Fen had not been taken along; once the alliance leader’s wife, she was now a wanted suspect and could no longer manage Yushuihuan, which was therefore taken over by another madam from the outer district.

This madam’s connection to Ye Yin was well hidden; everyone assumed they were mere acquaintances, but years ago, Ye Yin had saved both her parents. Though notorious for her loose morals, the madam was fiercely filial and now worked tirelessly to use the brothel to gather intelligence for Ye Yin, launder money, buy arms, and had sworn that should anything happen, she would bear all consequences herself, never implicating Ye Yin.

“She’s just a friend’s acquaintance, and I’m generous with my money,” Ye Yin replied with a smile. “Money can make the devil turn millstones; looking out for you a little extra is no trouble at all.”