Six months passed in the blink of an eye, yet they left a lasting impact on Devor’s life.

  Devor now stood atop a flying sword, soaring through the skies above the Azure Sky Sect. His face was pale, as though all color had drained from it, like a candle flickering in the sun. Though large and sturdy, the sword beneath him felt as fragile as a leaf trembling in the vastness of the sky.

  Behind him, Yulin strode effortlessly on her sword, her long black hair flowing like silk in the wind. She moved with ease, as if the sky itself were her domain. Her sword sliced through the clouds with effortless confidence, radiating grace and authority.

  "Junior Brother Devor," Yulin called, her voice tinged with teasing amusement. "You’ve become a cultivator, yet you’re still afraid of heights?"

  Devor swallowed, his eyes fixed on the distant ground below. The world seemed impossibly small, yet its vastness made his knees weak. His heart pounded in his ears like a war drum, while dark whispers tugged at his mind, tempting him to leap into the void.

  "Senior Sister," Devor replied, struggling to steady his voice. "Fear is a natural human trait."

  Yulin smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I'm not afraid like you," she teased, shaking her head. Her tone became playfully wicked. "How about we pick up the pace? You won’t have time to look down."

  "No, wait!" Devor began to protest, but his words were swallowed by the wind as Yulin sped ahead, her sword cutting through the air with a swift whoosh.

  The wind roared in his ears, whipping against his pale face. Devor’s body tensed, his hands shaking as he fought to maintain balance. His mind went blank, overwhelmed by a wave of anxiety that left him numb.

  Behind him, Yulin’s laughter echoed in the wind, light and melodious. But to Devor, it sounded less like joy and more like the cackle of a mischievous demon in disguise.

  ??????

  After what seemed like an eternity, they finally arrived at a small village nestled at the base of the mountains, far from the Azure Sky Sect.

  Devor stepped off his sword, his legs unsteady and his pale face showing the strain of the ordeal. His knees buckled with each step, as though the ground beneath him were still shifting.

  Behind him, Yulin dismounted with effortless grace, her demeanor calm and serene, like a swan gliding onto a tranquil lake. The contrast between them was almost comical—a trembling frog trailing a majestic swan.

  Devor turned back, forcing a bitter smile. "Senior Sister, we should return to the sect on horseback."

  "Horses?" Yulin tilted her head, her gaze lingering on him with clear curiosity. "Do you have a horse waiting for you or something?"

  "No," Devor said, shaking his head as he tried to keep a straight face. "But we could just buy one from the villagers."

  Yulin chuckled, amusement evident in her voice. "Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll have to get over your fear sooner or later. As a cultivator, you can’t rely on horses. Flying swords are essential—especially if you ever want to be as strong as me."

  Her gaze sparkled with delight, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

  Devor clenched his jaw, swallowing his retort. "This can wait for another day," he thought, letting out a silent sigh.

  "Open Profile," Devor thought.

  [ Name: Devor Li ]

  [ Gender: Male ]

  [ Age: 14/120 ]

  [ Cultivation: Stage-2 Qi Refining Realm ]

  [ Spiritual Energy: 243/243 ]

  [ Spiritual Root: Five-Color Root ]

  [ Knowledge: 78 Books ]

  [ Enlightenment Realm (Points): 14/100 (to access) ]

  [ Abilities: Ultimate Synthesis, Attribute Analyzer, Ultimate Comprehension (Lv1) ]

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Devor glanced over the familiar information displayed before him. Reaching Stage-2 Qi Refining was a major milestone, marking his shift from a laborer in the Spiritual Garden to a true disciple of the Azure Sky Sect.

  But today wasn’t about cultivation. It was a rare day for something personal—the day he’d decided to return to his village and visit his Grandpa, his only remaining family.

  With each step, Devor’s resolve grew stronger as he entered the village. Memories of his Grandpa flooded his mind, mixing with the anticipation of their reunion. The breeze carried the scent of fresh soil and blooming flowers, adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the village.

  Behind him, Yulin followed, her usual grace unchanged and her bright expression never wavering. "So, Junior Brother," she said with a light, curious tone, "what are you going to say to your Grandpa when you see him?"

  Devor paused, his gaze fixed on the small houses ahead. A small smile tugged at his lips. "I’ll tell him his grandson’s become a cultivator—and that I’ll make sure he’s taken care of in his old age."

  Yulin walked beside him, her playful demeanor giving way to something gentler. She glanced at Devor, her expression unreadable for a moment, then spoke softly. "You’re a good person, Devor. Your Grandpa must be proud of you."

  Devor returned a small smile and said nothing as he resumed walking.

  In his heart, he knew this journey was more than just a reunion—it marked the start of something much bigger.

  Though his age had nearly doubled and his body had grown taller and stronger, Devor felt at ease with the changes.

  As Devor and Yulin entered the quiet village, their presence drew curious looks from everyone. Devor’s plain yet elegant white robe and Yulin’s light blue sect robe, exuding an air of quiet prestige, clearly marked them as cultivators. The villagers, not used to seeing such figures, watched with awe and curiosity.

  Though Devor had lived in this village before, he hadn’t really connected with anyone. In his previous life, he’d been an adult from the modern world, which made it hard to connect with children his age. Instead, he spent most of his time buried in books, pursuing knowledge in solitude.

  At the far end of the village, beneath swaying coconut trees, stood a simple bamboo house. Its walls, blackened by age, still stood strong—a testament to its enduring strength, much like the man who lived within.

  Devor stopped, staring at the house, a mix of emotions he couldn’t name crossing his face. His heart felt heavy. This house was his only home, tied to memories of warmth and loss, longing and resilience.

  Beside the house, an elderly man with snow-white hair sat on a small bamboo stool. His thin, wrinkled hands moved methodically as he sorted herbs, each motion showing precision and care. Occasionally, he lifted a plant closer to his face, studying it carefully before nodding with quiet approval.

  The air carried the fresh, earthy scent of rain-soaked soil and the sharp aroma of herbs. The gentle rustle of leaves and distant birdsong filled the air, adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the village.

  Devor took a deep breath to steady himself, then walked forward, his steps firm but quiet.

  Yulin noticed the shift in his demeanor and, sensing the significance of the moment, held back her usual teasing. She followed him quietly, her expression softening.

  “Grandpa!” Devor called, his voice faltering slightly under the weight of his emotions. A small but genuine smile spread across his face.

  The old man paused, his hands stilled as he turned toward the sound of the voice. His slightly clouded eyes took a moment to focus on Devor and the woman standing behind him. Recognition came swiftly, and his weathered face broke into a broad smile.

  “Haha! You’ve finally come back, Devor!” the old man exclaimed, his laughter rich with joy. Rising quickly, he hurried toward his grandson, his steps fast but uneven.

  Though Devor had changed over the years, the old man—who had raised him from childhood—recognized him instantly. Even if Devor were reduced to ashes, he would still know it was him.

  With surprising strength, the old man lifted Devor into the air like a child. Despite Devor now standing at 157 centimeters tall, his Grandpa managed to lift him effortlessly.

  “Look at you, little boy! You’ve grown taller and even more handsome!” the old man said, his laughter full of warmth.

  Devor grinned, letting his Grandpa share his joy without interruption.

  From behind, Yulin watched quietly, her usual playfulness giving way to a rare, contemplative expression. There was something profoundly beautiful in the simplicity of the moment—something she couldn't quite put into words.

  As she watched Devor laughing with his Grandpa, Yulin was reminded that, despite his composure and diligence at the sect, he was still, in many ways, just a child. In the world of cultivation, where age often mattered less than power, contribution, and cultivation level, it was easy to forget that someone like Devor longed for the simple warmth of family.

  After a few moments, the old man set Devor gently back on the ground, his breath a bit labored, but his energy as strong as ever. He gave Devor’s shoulder an affectionate pat before turning to Yulin.

  “And you brought such a beautiful young woman! Hahaha! Now I can leave this world in peace!” he said, his voice booming with joy.

  “Grandpa, it’s not like that!” Devor stammered, his face turning red as he tried to protest. His eyes flicked nervously to Yulin, seeking her reaction.

  The old man only laughed louder, brushing aside Devor’s protests. “You’re a grown man now, Devor! It’s high time you thought about settling down!” he declared with a tone that brooked no argument.

  “I’m only 14!” Devor screamed inwardly, but he knew better than to voice such objections. In this world, once puberty hit, one was considered ready for marriage—a far cry from the standards of his past life.

  “Come, come! I’ll prepare a feast to celebrate!” the old man said, his excitement overflowing as he waved them toward the house.

  Yulin gave a warm smile and bowed slightly. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

  Devor scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, stealing glances at Yulin to see if she was offended by his Grandpa’s words. Yet, her serene smile remained unchanged, and her eyes still held kindness.

  As they stepped into the humble home, Devor felt a comforting warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. This wasn’t just a visit—it was a reminder of what he was fighting for.