Volume Two: The Mortal Realm Chapter Forty-Five: The Grand Xia Dynasty

After Ye Mingke slew the giant serpent by the sea that night, he lost consciousness—the last thing he remembered was collapsing beside the blood-drenched corpse of the beast, his senses fading. What happened afterward was a complete blank; it was as if either his own desperate will to survive, or a demon sealed within his body, had seized control.

When he finally broke free of that cocoon, almost all the skin covering his body had been newly regenerated. The height that once placed him among the shortest of his peers now had grown by several inches, and his hair, once of ordinary length, now cascaded down to his waist.

He possessed strength, speed, and senses far beyond anything he’d known before—he had become someone entirely new.

Yet his own will had not fully returned. Instead, it remained suppressed beneath a fiercer, more terrifying hunger than ever before.

Like a wild beast, he plunged into the forest, roaming its depths, becoming the undisputed lord of those woods, so that even the creatures of the forest fell silent before him.

Not until a group of people startled the white tiger, not until he set eyes upon another human, did the consciousness that belonged to Ye Mingke begin to claw its way back from that monstrous hunger.

After Ye Mingke joined the party, Li Han’s group still numbered seven.

They did not immediately set sail for home, but instead, as instructed by the Immortal, set about gathering the various rare herbs and minerals from the forest that he required.

They wandered the woods for two days, and in that time, fortune smiled upon them: not only did they face no danger, but on the few occasions when they encountered fierce beasts or venomous insects, Ye Mingke dispatched them with ease.

As time passed, the crimson hue in Ye Mingke’s eyes gradually faded, returning to their original clear, calm black and white.

He cut away a portion of his hair with a knife, tied it up neatly again, and washed the bloodstains from his clothes. The feral, cold savagery that clung to him slipped away.

On the surface, he seemed once more a gentle, well-kept youth, with a clear and tranquil gaze—a boy who might have walked the streets of his hometown before the rain fell that day.

But deep within those serene eyes now lurked a chill and a distance.

He was, in the end, irrevocably changed.

Once the men realized Ye Mingke was not some merciless killer, their interactions with this clear-eyed, preternaturally skilled youth gradually became more harmonious.

With their patient guidance, Ye Mingke grasped the local dialect of Beihai County within two days, and soon began learning the official language of Da Xia from Li Han, who alone among them spoke it.

His terrifying speed of learning left even these men—who’d never considered language to be a difficult thing—half-inclined to call him a monster all over again.

But Ye Mingke himself hardly understood what they found so strange. Compared to Dragon Aunt’s Heavenly Chess, with its three hundred and sixty-six pieces and as many arcane rules, memorizing words and deducing the laws of grammar was blissfully simple.

By the fourth day, he had mastered the official speech of Da Xia.

The men had nothing left to say, their eyes taking on a new measure of awe as they looked at Ye Mingke.

Compared to his remarkable physical prowess, it was his intellect that most astonished them—a testament, perhaps, to humanity’s reverence for wisdom above all else.

Throughout the long ages, the animal kingdom has teemed with creatures stronger than humans, but few—if any—more intelligent. Thus, to encounter a being whose mind surpassed their own was to awaken a deeper, more profound fear.

On the fourth day, Li Han and his companions had already gathered more herbs and minerals than they had ever dreamed possible, their packs brimming.

Not a single one of them had died or even been injured in the process.

“Our luck this time is unbelievable,” someone said.

“With all this, we could repay the Immortal’s kindness several times over. Do you think our villages might not have to send anyone out to sea again for years?”

“All thanks to Brother Ye—he’s incredible. That huge spider, two or three meters tall, nearly scared me out of my skin, but Brother Ye just dropped from a tree and smashed its little head in with a single punch.”

“Haha, that spider never saw it coming.”

“And that green serpent, hiding so well in the forest, tried to ambush us, but still couldn’t escape Brother Ye’s eyes...”

Whereas only days before they had nearly despaired of ever returning home safely with the rare materials, now they sat around the fire, laughing and talking loudly.

From time to time, their admiring, half-fearful glances strayed toward the youthful figure by the fire, quietly polishing a sword case.

Night had fallen on the forest; the fire cast its glow only a few yards around, beyond which mist and thick darkness pressed in, alive with strange sounds and unseen dangers.

But they were unafraid, for the boy polishing his sword case had given no warning—and after so many days, their faith in his protection was absolute.

Apart from the others, Ye Mingke bent over the black, icy-cold sword case resting across his knees, carefully wiping it clean.

He had tried to open the sword case his uncle had given him, but failed. Though it bore no lock, he could find neither seam nor opening; it was as if the thing were a completely sealed, hollow box of iron.

Still, he believed his uncle would not deceive him.

That man’s very existence might have been a lie, but on this, Ye Mingke trusted him.

If it would not open, then perhaps the time had simply not yet come.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow approaching from the firelight—a figure moving toward him. It was Li Han.

“Brother Ye,” Li Han said, coming to a halt and, a little awkwardly, sitting down beside him.

He alone among the group did not call Ye Mingke “Brother Ye” with that mixture of awe and reverence. For Li Han had always been the leader, and though his abilities were limited, he could not fully relax his guard or relinquish the heavy responsibility of command until he truly understood this strange youth.

“Why not come join us by the fire?” Li Han asked, his tone a little stiff, clearly unaccustomed to initiating conversation with near-strangers.

Ye Mingke, except when learning language from them, remained mostly silent these past days, keeping to himself; the others still found him somewhat inscrutable. Beyond a name, they knew nothing of his origins or motives.

“I prefer the quiet,” Ye Mingke replied, his tone gentle—so at odds with his cold exterior. It was a habit of his for many years. But when had he become a quiet person?

As he polished the sword case, he suddenly thought of a quiet girl, and the veiled beauty of her eyes; unconsciously, a warm smile touched his lips.

Perhaps he liked the quiet because, in stillness, he could recall the bygone world that had vanished, and in remembering, not lose it so quickly.

“I see. That’s good, too—I’ve never been fond of crowds myself,” Li Han replied, following Ye Mingke’s lead.

Ye Mingke continued polishing the sword case, not responding further. That was his way these days: polite and gentle when addressed, but rarely engaging beyond what was necessary.

Perhaps because of Ye Mingke’s consistent mildness, and the warmth of that fleeting smile, Li Han finally summoned the courage to ask a question that had weighed on him—a question he feared might be sensitive.

“We’ve known each other a while now. But I still don’t know where you’re from, or why you joined us. Do you have a place you wish to go?” Li Han asked. He had meant to ask only one question, but, fearing he might lose his nerve, blurted them all at once.

After all, their journey home was near; it seemed prudent to know a little more about this mysterious youth.

Ye Mingke’s hand stilled on the sword case. He looked up at Li Han’s firelit face, paused, and finally spoke—his calm voice tinged with sorrow.

“I don’t belong here. My elder and I stumbled into these strange seas by accident. My elder died protecting me.”

Ye Mingke fell silent, recalling the great white beast’s final, lingering gaze, and in his eyes was a quiet sadness.

“Now, like you, I simply wish to leave this place.”

Li Han listened quietly, sensing the genuine sorrow in those simple words. The youth, he felt sure, spoke nothing but the truth.

But then Ye Mingke asked him a curious question.

“What is it like, outside?” he asked, his gaze intent.

Li Han hesitated, momentarily at a loss, not knowing how to respond.

Seeing his confusion, Ye Mingke clarified, “I mean, what is it like beyond these seas? Or if you wish, you could just tell me about your homeland—your country.”

“Outside?” Li Han echoed, thinking a moment.

“These are the Mists, part of the North Sea. The county bordering it is the northernmost in the Great Xia Empire—Beihai County. Our villages are in Beihai.”

“The Great Xia Empire?” Ye Mingke echoed, puzzled.

From his studies, he knew this was the mortal realm—north lay the North Sea, south the wilds, central the Middle Provinces, west the Buddhist lands, east the Immortal Isles of Penglai.

But nowhere had he read of a Great Xia Empire.

“You’ve never heard of the Great Xia? These are truly prosperous times—unprecedented in history!” Li Han’s eyes shone with pride as he spoke of his homeland.

“Since ancient times, the Divine Continent has been vast, with countless warring states, endless strife—such suffering for the common folk. But three centuries ago, the Great Xia arose, sweeping aside all rivals and unifying the land, bringing peace at last.”

“When I was barely a man, I traveled to the capital, Yangjing. The city blazed with a thousand lights, carriages and crowds thronging the streets—a place of boundless splendor.”

As he spoke of the capital, the usually reserved Li Han seemed to cast off the years, recalling the vigor of youth.

Yet in such an age of peace, how had that spirited youth become a man, barely past thirty, with hair already streaked with gray, and so much silence in his eyes?