Ye Lingling reached out and caught it.
The instant the pendant landed in her palm, warmth seeped through its surface. It felt cozy, creeping up her fingers.
It wasn't hot, just warm—like carrying a hot-water bottle in winter.
She lowered her eyes and took a look.
The white jade was translucent, faint streams of light drifting within it in circling rings.
The delicate patterns around the edge only came into focus when she leaned in close. They were exquisitely carved.
Beautiful.
Ye Lingling turned the pendant over and over, looking at it three times.
Then she carefully tucked it into her clothes, settling it against her chest.
Her close-fitting clothes bulged in a small curve where the pendant rested beneath them.
Warm.
This was the first time the Celestial Master had ever given her anything.
From the time she'd started guarding this stone door at thirteen until now, five years had passed. She'd wiped the Daoist patterns more than eighteen hundred times and changed hundreds of buckets of spirit spring water, yet the Celestial Master had never said more than three words to her.
Today, he'd told her his name and even given her something.
Sweetness filled her heart, rising from her chest to the back of her throat.
Ye Lingling bent deeply at the waist in a formal bow. She bent so far, nearly ninety degrees, that her forehead almost touched her knees.
"Celestial Master, Lingling will take her leave. Please get some rest."
Her voice was still trembling as she spoke.
She bit her lip and retreated toward the doorway, her steps as light as could be, afraid the soles of her shoes might make even the tiniest sound against the stone slabs.
When she reached the stone door, she bowed once more.
Only then did she turn around and tiptoe out.
The stone door slowly swung shut behind her.
With a click, the gap vanished.
Ye Lingling stood outside the door, both hands pressed to her chest, holding the pendant through her clothes.
Her heart pounded wildly, and her face was as hot as if she'd been roasted over a fire.
She took two deep breaths of the mountain breeze.
It was cool, with the scent of pine needles.
She patted her cheeks, smoothed the damp strands of hair across her forehead, lifted her skirt, and headed down the bluestone path toward the temple gate.
The overturned wooden bucket was still lying on the steps, its water spilled everywhere.
She bent to right it, tucked it under her arm, and walked down the slick stone steps one at a time.
Humming~
The little tune bubbled out of her again, its notes more wildly off-key than before. She didn't notice at all.
The temple gate's two weathered wooden doors stood half open.
Ye Lingling squeezed through sideways and stepped onto the first bluestone outside the threshold—
Her chest exploded.
It wasn't a figure of speech. The white jade pendant against her skin suddenly burst into a blinding mass of crimson-gold light without warning.
Light shot out through the gaps in her clothes, through the collar, through the sleeves.
A shell of crimson-gold light enveloped her, shining so brightly that Ye Lingling squeezed her eyes shut on reflex.
Then the pendant shattered.
She heard it break—crack! Crisp, clean, without the slightest hesitation.
The shards didn't pierce her flesh. They didn't even fall.
Because in that very instant, a power so vast it made her mind go blank surged out of the fragments.
It poured into her skin.
Into her meridians.
Into every inch of her bones, every spiritual channel, every acupoint in her body.
"Ah—!"
Ye Lingling screamed. The bucket slid from under her arm, clanging against the stone steps and bouncing far away.
She collapsed to her knees, bracing herself with both hands, her fingers digging into the cracks between the stones.
It was too hot.
Her whole body felt as if she'd been thrown into lava, every inch of skin burning.
The Soul Power inside her went mad. The power surging into her swept up the Soul Power that had once been only Level 32, flowing sluggishly through her meridians, and sent it skyrocketing.
Level 35.
Level 40.
Level 50.
Her Nine Heart Begonia Martial Soul released itself inside her.
Pale pink light burst from her body, one blossom, then two, then three—the phantom of her Martial Soul appeared behind her, its petals unfurling layer by layer.
Level 60.
Level 70.
Ye Lingling's body arched, her back curving like a bow, veins bulging on her forehead.
Her ten fingers dug into the cracks in the stone. Two nails split, and blood seeped out, mingling with the rainwater on the ground and trickling away.
But she couldn't feel any pain at all.
Her Soul Power kept rising.
Level 80—the realm of an Eight-Ring Soul Douluo flashed past without even a pause.
Level 85.
Level 88.
Level 90.
Boom—!
A mighty shockwave exploded from Ye Lingling's body, sweeping out in all directions with her at its center.
The temple gate slammed against the wall with a bang, and two cracks split one of its wooden panels.
Loose stones along the bluestone path flew into the ancient trees on either side, smacking against them with a series of sharp cracks.
The bottleneck at Level 90 shattered just like that.
There was no resistance, no delay.
She hit it, it broke, and she passed through.
Then—
The shattered remains of the jade pendant melted in the crimson-gold light, transforming into a Soul Ring.
It was crimson from end to end.
A Hundred Thousand Year Soul Ring.
Its color was so deep it verged on black, carrying the heavy, oppressive weight of a hundred thousand years.
The Soul Ring didn't reject her.
It didn't even wait for Ye Lingling to respond—it flew toward her of its own accord, silently merging into her body and settling into the position of her ninth Soul Ring.
It meshed perfectly with the origin of her Nine Heart Begonia Martial Soul.
Not a hair out of place.
As if it had been made just for her.
The crimson-gold light began to fade, peeling away in wisps from the outermost layer and revealing Ye Lingling, still kneeling on the ground.
She remained braced on both hands, her fingers wedged into the cracks between the stones. Half her hair had come loose, and beads of sweat dripped from her forehead onto the stone slabs.
Her whole body trembled.
Not from pain or cold.
The power that had just filled her from head to toe had abruptly receded, but its afterglow still circled through her meridians, sending a tingling sensation deep into her bones.
Level 90.
A Titled Douluo.
Ye Lingling knelt where she was, her mind a blank buzz.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
She tried again. Her throat bobbed, and she managed to squeeze out a breathy murmur.
A Titled Douluo.
From a Level 32 Soul Elder to a Titled Douluo.
A little toy.
The Celestial Master's exact words: "Just a little toy. Here, it's yours."
A little toy had taken her straight from Level 32 to Level 90.
That white jade pendant that was "not very big, about two finger joints wide."
Ye Lingling collapsed onto the ground, tears spilling uncontrollably from her eyes.
One drop, then two, struck the cracked bluestone slabs and spread, mingling with the blood seeping from between her fingers.
She wasn't sad. The shock was simply too much for her to process.
She was eighteen years old.
She'd cultivated for twelve years and been stuck at Level 32 for three whole years, doing her daily training until midnight, her progress slower than a snail.
She'd thought that reaching Level 50 in her lifetime would be like her ancestors' graves smoking with good fortune.
And yet.
Just one jade pendant.
Ye Lingling climbed to her feet and turned around.
The temple gate hung crooked on one side. Behind it, the bluestone path wound upward through the morning mist, its end leading toward the Seclusion Chamber.
She dropped straight to her knees.
Her knees hit the stone slabs with a crisp smack.
For her first kowtow, she struck her forehead against the ground with force. It hit with a muffled thud.
The second kowtow was even harder.
Her forehead left a shallow mark in the stone slab.
The third kowtow.
She pressed her forehead against the cold stone as tears trickled down the bridge of her nose.
Ye Lingling's lips trembled, but she couldn't utter a single word. Her throat was completely choked.
Three generations—her great-grandmother, her mother, and then her.
They had guarded an empty mountain and served a tightly shut stone door.
Today, it had all been repaid. More than repaid.
"There's no need to thank me. Get up."
That calm voice, with its lazy drawl, came from deep within the temple. It passed through the passageway and the mountain gate, landing in her ears.
Neither loud nor soft, neither hurried nor slow.
Ye Lingling jerked her head up. The red mark on her forehead stood out clearly.
Shen Yichen's voice continued.
"I have something I need you to do."
Ye Lingling scrambled to her feet. Dust and stone grit clung to her knees. She wiped her tears as she took two steps inside, then stopped and bent at the waist.
"Please give your orders, Celestial Master! Lingling will carry them out even if it costs her life!"
Before you continue