Ye Lingling: I Really Deserve to Die!

Zhao Ming's voice gradually sank, and a thin mist of moisture rose in his clear eyes. He lowered his head slightly, as if trying hard to suppress some emotion.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice several degrees hoarser than before. "When I was three, our village was massacred by Fallen Soul Masters.

"Those beasts... they weren't human at all. They killed not for money, nor out of hatred, but purely to devour the vitality and blood within human bodies for cultivation.

"My father was tortured to death while protecting my mother and me. My mother hid me in the cellar, then rushed out herself to lure those Fallen Soul Masters away. In the end, she too..."

Zhao Ming did not continue. He merely clenched his fists tightly, looking both like a child desperately holding back his grief and a young beast suppressing its rage.

A breeze swept past, stirring the loose strands of hair before his forehead and revealing his slightly reddened eyes, along with the unforgettable hatred hidden deep within them.

"Later, I was fortunate enough to awaken Innate Full Soul Power and was found to possess the talent of a Soul Master. That was how I embarked on the path of a Soul Master. But I have never forgotten my parents. Never."

At this point, Zhao Ming raised his head and looked at Ye Lingling, his gaze carrying a resolve wholly unfitting for his age. "The reason I want to learn medicine isn't for anything else. I just want to fulfill my father's final wish.

"His greatest wish in life was to see me inherit the family trade, but unfortunately, he did not live to see that day.

"Although I have become a Soul Master and can no longer return to being a village doctor, I at least want to learn what he hoped I would learn. Consider it an explanation for him."

After saying this, Zhao Ming fell silent. He simply stood there quietly, watching the white clouds drifting across the distant sky, his eyes filled with an indescribable loneliness.

Ye Lingling stood where she was, completely motionless, as though someone had cast a restraining spell on her.

Looking at the boy before her, who was half a head shorter than she was, an indescribable sense of guilt surged up within her.

That guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave, instantly drowning all her reason and guardedness.

Only one thought remained in her mind, echoing over and over again: I really deserve to die!

He merely wanted to fulfill his father's final wish, to learn some medical knowledge to comfort the spirits of his parents in heaven, yet she had judged a gentleman by her own petty standards and suspected him of trying to win over the Ye Clan for His Highness the Crown Prince.

Ye Lingling, Ye Lingling, when had you become so worldly? When had you become so cold-hearted?

A child not even eight years old had lost his parents and his home. He had finally found somewhere to belong under His Highness the Crown Prince's protection, and finally met a peer who might share common interests with him—yet you had looked at him with such wariness and scrutiny, questioning him in that icy tone.

Did you have even a shred of conscience left?

At that thought, Ye Lingling took a deep breath and tried to calm the turbulent emotions within her.

She stepped forward and bent slightly before Zhao Ming, bringing her eyes level with his.

Those eyes, usually so cool and distant, were now filled with sincere apology. "Zhao Ming, I'm sorry."

Her voice was soft, yet exceptionally earnest. "I shouldn't have questioned you like that just now. I judged a gentleman by my own petty standards. I apologize to you."

She paused, seemingly choosing her words, before continuing, "I'll help arrange for you to meet my grandfather.

"My grandfather may not like getting involved with nobles, but he has never been stingy with guidance when it comes to those who genuinely wish to learn medicine.

"Besides, your father was a doctor, and you wish to inherit his teachings. In a sense, you can be considered half a practitioner of medicine as well. A Soul Master as talented as you is still willing to study medical arts. If my grandfather learns of it, he may even be very pleased."

Upon hearing this, the loneliness on Zhao Ming's face gradually faded, replaced by a heartfelt smile. He nodded gently, his tone carrying a hint of delight. "Thank you, Senior Ye! Thank you so much!"

Ye Lingling straightened and waved a hand, returning to her cool and detached demeanor, though an almost imperceptible warmth had entered her voice. "There's no need to thank me. I'm only introducing you. Whether you can earn my grandfather's approval will depend on your own ability."

The two continued down the shaded path. Ye Lingling went on to explain the Royal Dou Team's training arrangements to Zhao Ming, but this time, her tone was clearly much gentler than before, and her explanations more detailed.

Zhao Ming listened attentively, nodding from time to time and occasionally asking a question or two. His obedient, studious manner made Ye Lingling's favorable impression of him deepen further.

What Ye Lingling did not know was that what Zhao Ming was thinking at that moment was completely different from what she imagined.

Strictly speaking, Zhao Ming's earlier words had been nine parts truth and one part lie.

His father in this life had indeed been the village doctor. His father was merely an ordinary village doctor, and his medical skills could not be called particularly outstanding, but he had spent his whole life doing his utmost to treat the villagers.

Whenever someone in the village had a headache or fever, or a child broke a leg in a fall, it was always his father who went to treat them.

Sometimes, a patient's family was so poor they could barely afford food and could not pay the consultation fee, but his father never fussed over it and still treated them with all his heart.

The villagers all said Doctor Zhao was a good man, and that Heaven would surely bless him.

It was also true that his father had hoped he would inherit the family trade. Zhao Ming still remembered how, when he was little, his father would often hold him on his lap and point at the medicinal herbs drying in the courtyard, teaching him to identify them one by one.

Although Zhao Ming was a transmigrator and had opened his spiritual sea at an early age, he had not even been three years old then. Moreover, all his thoughts had been focused on how to get Nine-Breath Qi Absorption started as quickly as possible. Naturally, he had not studied seriously, much less remembered the medicinal herbs of Douluo Continent.

When Zhao Ming's father saw that he could not remember them, he did not grow impatient. He simply taught him over and over again. His mother would watch from the side, always smiling as she said, "He's still so little, yet you're already in such a hurry to teach him these things. Aren't you afraid of tiring him out?"

His father would stroke Zhao Ming's head and say with a chuckle, "I can't afford not to hurry. This trade has to be passed down. What if I'm gone someday? He'll still be able to make a living with it."

Unexpectedly, his father's words became prophecy. When Zhao Ming was three years old, a group of Fallen Soul Masters stormed into their village.

He would never forget that day, nor would he ever forget the hatred he bore for his parents.

All these years, he had cultivated desperately and forced himself to grow stronger, all so that one day he could fulfill his vow and slaughter every Fallen Soul Master under heaven.

Zhao Ming had even made plans for it already. Once he became a god, he would establish rules of heaven and earth on Douluo Continent similar to the heavenly tribulations endured by soul beasts.

Every time a Fallen Soul Master broke through a realm, they would draw down a heavenly tribulation, until they were struck into ashes.

So, when Zhao Ming said he had never forgotten his parents, that was true.

And when he said he wanted to learn medical knowledge to fulfill his father's final wish, that was true in a sense as well. He truly wanted to give his father an explanation, and he truly wanted to learn what his father had once wished to teach him.

The only false part was his true purpose for learning medical knowledge. He did not want to inherit the family trade and become a doctor who healed the sick and saved the world. He wanted to refine pills.