Chapter Forty-Nine: The Preliminary Mastery of Soul Power

The richness of the rewards for this year’s Martial Gathering of the clans far surpassed everyone’s expectations. Especially the yellow-grade advanced martial manual, which was enough to make every cultivator present green with envy!

For all the families in Jinhuan City, a yellow-grade advanced technique was considered exceptionally high-level. Even among the three great families, the Zhangs possessed only the “Three Shattering Seals.” The collections of the other two families were shrouded in mystery, but certainly not abundant!

Aside from the Zhangs, who claimed first place, the Sun family and the Liu family, who took second and third, each received a mid-grade spiritual artifact. Though their supply of low-grade artifacts paled in comparison to the Zhangs, they were also each awarded a yellow-grade intermediate martial manual.

“Who would have guessed that Qingxuan Sect would be so generous this year? With these artifacts and techniques, plus the management rights to the market district in the city, the Zhang family will surely secure the top seat among Jinhuan’s three great families!”

“It seems that after today, a major reshuffling of Jinhuan City’s powers is inevitable!”

Representing the Liu family on stage was naturally Liu Zhengqing. Though he appeared somewhat battered, his body wrapped in white bandages with specks of crimson blood seeping through, the sharpness in his gaze remained undiminished.

Five days ago, he had battled Yang Yan and sustained numerous injuries, but they were only superficial, not harming his bones or muscles. How could he miss today’s spectacular contest?

As for Sun Zhixin, after she fled the martial arena in shame and anger, she had not returned. It was understandable—a young maiden, humiliated by Yang Yan before a crowd, would be mortified and unwilling to face further ridicule.

Yang Yan tilted his head and glanced aside. With Sun Zhixin absent, the Sun family was represented by his mother, the elegant Madam Han.

As Yang Yan looked over, she seemed to sense his gaze. Her beautiful eyes found him, her delicate brows furrowing slightly, a hint of displeasure on her graceful face.

Seeing this, Yang Yan quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened and scanning the crowd, though his heart thumped wildly, nearly leaping from his chest.

Yet, as his gaze swept past the empty seats of the Xu family, a sudden chill gripped his heart, an inexplicable sense of foreboding. “The Xu family has been far too quiet these past days...”

“The Martial Gathering of the clans is now concluded!”

The uneasy thought flickered and vanished, and Yang Yan finally breathed a sigh of relief. No longer subjected to the scrutiny of the crowd, he hurried toward the Zhang family’s seats.

“Ziling, that little girl, left so early today?”

He murmured as he noticed the empty chair where Ziling had once sat.

On his way, he paid no heed to the congratulations, flattery, or praise from the clansmen. Yang Yan slipped away alone, rushing back to the Zhang residence, shutting himself in his room, and settling cross-legged on his bed to meditate.

He was not cultivating spiritual power, but rather sensing the strength of his soul.

His duel with Sun Zhixin, despite a few mishaps, had brought him great gains. The greatest benefit was undoubtedly his successful use of the “Soul Devouring Seal” and his first glimpse into sensing and wielding soul power.

Within Yang Yan, it was as if a door had opened, releasing a new force—fresh and vibrant as a newborn, roaming freely and unrestrained within him. What he needed to do now was imprint his own mark upon it while it was still nascent, to fully control it and wield it at will.

Yang Yan relaxed his body, his breathing and heartbeat settling into tranquility. Clearing his mind of all distractions, he felt as light as a tuft of cotton, floating gracefully in a spring breeze, or drifting among the clouds, bathed in the warm sunlight—a gentle, indescribable comfort.

Suddenly, a radiant butterfly of five colors emerged from the clouds, circling Yang Yan in a lazy dance. Joy surged in his heart, and he leapt, waving his arms to capture the butterfly. Yet, standing atop the clouds, each step was as soft as cotton, and the butterfly, cunning and lively, always slipped through his fingers.

After a fruitless chase, Yang Yan paused, resting his chin in his hand in contemplation, while the colorful butterfly continued to hover nearby, as if taunting him.

Abruptly, his frown eased. He brought his palms together, moving them fluidly before him, continuing the pursuit, but now with a gentle patience. Instead of snatching at the butterfly, his hands followed its flight as if dancing with it, like a breeze caressing it along.

This harmonious scene lasted for about two hours. Around Yang Yan’s moving hands, soft, faint glimmers appeared, like chains of light flowing with his arms; and the butterfly, no longer evasive, seemed to linger affectionately around the white glow, circling it endlessly.

As time passed, the intimacy between butterfly and light grew, dissolving the thin veil between Yang Yan and this force, melting away like spring waters until it was gone...

At last, the butterfly, guided by the glow, fluttered down like a falling leaf into Yang Yan’s palm. Its glassy wings gently trembled for a moment, then suddenly transformed into a colorless stream of light, slipping through his hand and merging into his body.

“So this is the power of the soul...”

In a flash, Yang Yan’s tightly closed eyes sprang open, a barely perceptible gleam shooting forth, sharp as lightning. At the same time, a surge of invisible soul energy burst out from him, pushing tables and chairs half a meter across the floor before settling.

This force was nothing like spiritual power; it lacked any obvious visual effect for attack. Though it wasn’t powerful yet, Yang Yan believed its potential was limitless. One day, it would surely bring him unimaginable benefits!

Slowly returning from the euphoria of acquiring this new power, he glanced out the window to see the sun sinking toward the west. Time had slipped unnoticed into evening.

He leisurely stretched his limbs and prepared to leave his room.

Yet, just as he stepped forward, urgent knocking sounded from the door. He quickly strode over and opened it.

“Aunt Zhao...”