A festive red adorned the entire manor, inside and out.

The flickering candlelight illuminated the inner hall, where a figure sat upright, face veiled beneath a crimson bridal hood.

Wen Yue brushed away his nerves and drew out the soul banner hidden within his robes.

A wedding banquet was already laid out on the table before him.

He placed the soul banner reverently on the table and poured two cups of wine.

Lifting one of them, Wen Yue spoke with a hint of wistfulness, “This disciple offers the first toast in respect.”

Within the soul banner, Tu Shanjun also raised his cup.

His heart, too, was filled with excitement.

The appointment for the post of vanguard general had officially come through.

With the autumn harvest wrapping up shortly after Wen Yue's wedding, it would soon be time to gather the army and head for the battlefield.

Liang City, truth be told, had become a cage that stifled his potential.

To avoid drawing attention, Tu Shanjun hadn’t even asked Wen Yue to visit the prison to collect fresh souls.

The cunning old hands at the Offering Pavilion were not strong in cultivation, but each one was as shrewd as a monkey.

If his frequent comings and goings to the prison were to raise suspicion, the loss would far outweigh the gain.

Fortunately, Wen Yue often brought him books and ancient texts to pass the time.

From within the soul banner, Tu Shanjun glanced at the table full of food.

He had tried tasting mortal food before.

For some unknown reason, what once would’ve been delicious now tasted like wax in his mouth, utterly bland and unpalatable.

It wasn’t that he lacked a sense of taste, he could very much still discern how bad it was. That was precisely why he had never mentioned to Wen Yue that he could still eat.

“There must be something in this world I can eat…” Tu Shanjun murmured uncertainly.

To be honest, it wasn’t loneliness he feared but that a life of monotony might dull and cripple the soul.

Cultivation and the power it brought were certainly fulfilling, but even then, a bit of diversion was necessary.

After the toasts were completed, Wen Yue stowed away the soul banner.

The banner cloth wrapped around the black jade rod about a foot long.

Tu Shanjun immediately sealed off the banner along with his five senses and six faculties, submerging the banner into utter darkness.

With the internal space closed off and nothing else to do, Tu Shanjun began drilling the nearly two hundred ghost souls within.

These souls retained considerable intelligence, along with a strong echo of their combat instincts from life.

However, high-quality souls were still in short supply.

Over time, Tu Shanjun had pieced together some understanding.

Baleful energy could greatly enhance the quality of the soul banner, but it did little to raise his own strength.

Only by increasing the number and strength of the souls within could the primary soul grow in power.

When the banner was empty, he, its commander, was merely at the first layer of Qi Refining. It was only after acquiring ranked ghost spirits that his strength began to grow.

Whether his theory was correct, he could not say with certainty. But the general idea, he believed, was sound. As with all theories, only through testing could one find proof. He would have to seek out stronger ghosts and see for himself.

There was no rushing this. It would take time and patience.

The candles in Wen Yue’s courtyard still burned brightly.

Servants were stationed outside the side room and in the outer hall.

In truth, the affairs of the heir’s bridal chamber were no secret. The handmaid of the Annan Marquis’s legitimate daughter resided in the outer room, while two experienced matrons had been prepared in advance and were stationed in the nearby ear chamber.

Ordinarily, there would have been even more attendants, especially since the Annan Marquis’s daughter suffered from a visual ailment, necessitating extra care.

But most had been dismissed by Wen Yue, leaving only the handmaid in the outer room.

Now that the main wife had entered the household, Chu Jiu, as Wen Yue’s personal attendant, lost his privileged station. He was evicted from the ear chamber and moved to the courtyard’s outer rooms.

Wen Yue, nervous, lifted the red veil from his bride’s face and froze in place. He had not expected her to be so breathtakingly beautiful.

The legitimate daughter of the Annan Marquis was named Song Ran. The two families had long since exchanged name cards and birth dates, their horoscopes compared to ensure no harmful clashes.

Wen Yue himself had little concern or involvement in such matters. As a cultivator, he had long since learned to keep fate and superstition at arm’s length.

Tu Shanjun, enjoying a brief moment of leisure, did not summon Wen Yue into the dream to train.

It was, after all, the bridal chamber on the wedding night, often playfully called the “minor scholarly success.” To interrupt such a night with cultivation training would have been the height of cluelessness or simply a sign of woefully low emotional intelligence.

Tu Shanjun considered himself a dignified man, not one to keep a diary. He wouldn't do such a stupid thing.

The next morning.

Wen Yue rose early. After tucking the blanket around his bride, he stepped out into the courtyard and began his breathing exercises.

He was not one to be distracted by affairs of the heart.

The hours when yin and yang shifted were when spiritual energy fluctuated most intensely, precisely the time cultivators should never miss.

By the time the first light crept over the sky, Song Ran awoke and found his side of the bed empty. She hurriedly summoned her handmaid.

Only after hearing her explanation did she realize Wen Yue had gone to train.

Then came another round of elaborate rituals. Together, the newlyweds went to greet the Jing’an Marquis and offer him tea.

By the time they were finished, it was already mid-morning.

“Young Master, I’ve brought Old Xue,” Chu Jiu announced, leading Xue Yi to the ox cart stop in the rear courtyard of the Marquis’ Estate.

After having once stood guard together, the two had grown rather close.

Xue Yi bowed with a smile. “Young Marquis, may I ask what you’ve summoned me for?”

“Come. We’re heading out,” Wen Yue said without explanation.

Rather than disclose their destination, he kept their movements discreet and boarded the ox cart that traveled between the city and the countryside estates.

The Marquis’ Estate often sent carts outside the city.

It owned several manors and large tracts of farmland beyond the walls.

Usually, the manor’s stewards would ride the carts out to oversee accounts and manage affairs.

The three boarded the cart. The second steward of the Marquis’ household sat at the edge and drew the curtain shut, shielding them from view.

The old driver cracked his whip with a loud snap, though it struck only the air, not the hide of the yellow ox.

The wheels creaked as the cart began to roll toward the manor estate.

The city gate wardens recognized the Marquis’ cart and, not daring to obstruct it, let it pass without delay.

Though Wen Yue sat with eyes closed, in truth, his spiritual sense was scanning the surroundings.

The Marquis’ Estate was under close watch by many. Every action had to be made with utmost discretion.

Even upon arrival at the estate, he did not relax. Alighting from the cart, he headed straight toward the rear mountain.

The second steward went off to check accounts and inspect the estate, while the three of them slipped away as though they had never come, taking a roundabout route to avoid others and ascend the rear mountain.

The mountain was dotted with many buildings, their layout sharp and imposing.

Chu Jiu and Xue Yi followed close behind Wen Yue.

Wen Yue fell into a moment of contemplation. In his heart, he was still torn.

Should he give that item to Master Xue and let him try?

If he used the Yin Soul Pill, it might be possible to push Xue Yi to the rank of Innate Grandmaster. However, Wen Yue had heard that Xue Yi had suffered injuries during his early years on the battlefield.

To break through to the Innate realm required not only ample qi and blood, but also a body with intact meridians. Without that, one could not complete the Grand Great Cycle and any attempt would risk catastrophic failure.

Wen Yue himself had incomplete meridians in his legs. But with the Old Xiang’s insights and his teacher’s guidance, he had used the Soul Banner to complete the Great Cycle and thus broken through.

Now, however, the soul banner had long been refined by Wen Yue’s own spiritual power. It could no longer accept the iinternal energy of others.

Which meant that Xue Yi could not rely on the soul banner to aid in his breakthrough.

At first, Wen Yue had believed that with the Yin Soul Pill, he could mass-produce Innate Grandmasters.

But upon learning this truth, he realized how naïve that assumption had been.

Crossing that threshold required more than just preparation, it demanded fate, fortune, and a body free of damaged meridians. Just that last criterion alone disqualified ninety percent of all Organ-Refining experts.

If the damage ran deep enough to affect the foundation, then any thought of becoming an Innate Grandmaster was a mere fantasy.

To live in the world of martial cultivation was to live under constant peril. Who could remain unscathed?

Only those with rare talent and abundant resources, who remained sheltered until their twenties before emerging into the world, only they could meet the preconditions with ease.

(Chapter End)