"Master says I have no talent. Could it be that I really have no talent?"
At that moment, Ye Buqu, having stopped his cultivation, looked at his hands stained with blood. For the first time, he began to doubt himself.
When Ye Lin had taken him as a disciple, he had told him that he had no talent. Now, he had persisted for ten years—ten whole years. While other disciples slept, he cultivated. While other disciples ate, he cultivated.
While other disciples dated and traveled about, he was still cultivating. Even so, new disciples of the same generation as him had already reached the Foundation Establishment Realm, the Golden Core Realm, and some exceptionally monstrous prodigies had even stepped into the Nascent Soul Realm.
Yet he was only at the pitiful second layer of Qi Refining.
Could it be that he truly was not suited for cultivation?
Under the sunlight, Ye Buqu's bronze-colored body gleamed. His originally fair skin had turned bronze from leaving early and returning late every day.
"No, flame."
Ye Buqu's gaze sharpened as his hands swiftly formed seals. At last, a tiny flame appeared between his palms—but the next moment, a gust of wind blew it out.
Even for the simplest Fire-Starting Technique, he had practiced for a full ten years without even entering the doorway.
Ye Buqu looked at his hands, then finally sat down dejectedly on the ground. He stared blankly at the sky, at a complete loss for what to do.
"Junior Brother? Junior Brother?"
At that moment, a crisp voice rang out from outside. The door opened, and Taiyuan, dressed in a long robe, walked in. Seeing Ye Buqu seated on the ground, Taiyuan stepped forward and pulled him up in one motion, then brushed the dust off Ye Buqu's robe.
"I've