Chapter Thirty-One: The Rival

Night had fallen, and Ye Ran sat alone in his room, attempting to regulate his injuries with his meager inner energy. His strength was weak and his technique clumsy; he followed Yunmeng’s notes, running the energy through his body again and again. The process was slow and arduous, but he persisted.

The door stood half-open. Outside, a small stove glowed red-hot as Freya and Andoru busied themselves brewing medicine for him.

Glancing at Ye Ran, who was wholly absorbed in his practice, Andoru leaned closer to Freya and whispered, “Freya, is it hard following Old Ye?”

Though she was young, Freya saw through Andoru’s intentions with ease. She tilted her head to look at him, then wrote on her sketchpad, “Freya will never leave A-Ran.”

He gave an awkward chuckle. “I’m not asking you to leave him. Of course you’re willing to share his hardships. I admit, though I’m not convinced, that he’s got what it takes. Both you and Michelle were willing to follow him, but… it’s been so tough for Old Ye.”

Freya looked at him, puzzled.

Andoru shook his head and sighed. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen Old Ye injured like this. He’s so stubborn. With his abilities, if he were alone, he would have left this cursed place long ago. One more person means one more mouth to feed. Back when Michelle was around, I couldn’t bear to watch. He worked jobs and took care of her fragile health at the same time. Michelle wasn’t chosen by the gods then—she was bedridden more often than not. And because of her, Old Ye got into fights with the people in the slums every other day—pickpockets, thugs, even murderers. He dealt with them all. And he was still so young back then.

“Later, when Michelle left, he was sad—but in a way, he was freed. And then he met you. Freya, you don’t realize it, but you’re an even heavier burden for him than Michelle ever was.”

The words stabbed at Freya’s heart like a needle. Her small hand, reaching to check the medicine’s temperature, faltered.

“It’s not just the cost of raising you on his meager earnings—though with his character, he’d never let you suffer. What’s worse is… he’s your Chosen.”

“For most people, being chosen by a god is an incredible honor. It means you can learn the deities’ special arts, and with enough inner strength and cultivation of one’s essence, you can walk the path of true power, win the favor of the great families and guilds. But you, Freya…”

“You’re a second-generation deity, but you have none of a god’s power. For Old Ye, being your Chosen is nothing but a shackle.”

He looked at her meaningfully. “He still has twenty gold coins left, you know how he got them?”

“He worked as a courier in the underground nests, nearly got eaten by ants for it.”

“You know he’s been taking on dangerous jobs to support you, but you didn’t realize how serious it was, did you? You almost lost him.”

Freya pulled her hand back, staring blankly at him, her heart tightening painfully.

She glanced at Ye Ran in the room, her small hand idly rubbing her pencil, her eyes suddenly turning red.

“Old Ye probably never told you any of this, but it’s the truth. No inner strength, no essence, no divine powers—no matter how skilled he is physically, no one will ever acknowledge him. If he fails the martial exam this time, his fate is sealed. He’ll have no time even to grieve, not with you around…”

Freya’s chest constricted painfully.

If Ye Ran failed the exam, he’d have to toil away at odd jobs in sun and rain just to scrape by, spending his whole life supporting himself—and because of his formal status as a Chosen, he’d lose any chance of being picked by another deity forever… The thought twisted a knife in her heart.

“Freya, I’m Old Ye’s friend. I’m saying this for your own good. With his current injuries, passing the martial exam is next to impossible. If he really can’t do it… leave him. Come to me. At least I can see to it that you have food and shelter. That way, Old Ye can rest a little easier…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Andoru saw that Ye Ran had completed a full circuit of energy, sweat pouring down his face. He called out, “Old Ye, the medicine’s ready! I’ll bring it in—drink it while it’s hot!”

He ladled the medicine into a small bowl, then whispered to Freya, “Don’t tell Old Ye. His pride couldn’t take it. After the exam, you’ll have to decide for yourself.” With that, he turned and carried the bowl into Ye Ran’s room.

Freya sat in a daze by the stove, tears slowly trickling down her face. She hurriedly wiped them away with her tiny hands…

After a night’s rest, Ye Ran—rare for him—slept until noon. Andoru had already left, but not before buying him some food.

“Freya, are you feeling down?”

Since Ye Ran woke, Freya had seemed distracted and troubled.

She shook her head and forced a sweet smile onto her little face, writing on her board, “A-Ran, Freya is very happy.”

Ye Ran couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, don’t try to put on a brave face like an adult. Eat some good food. I have to go out for a bit—be good and stay home, I’ll be back soon.”

Freya nodded obediently.

Ye Ran ate a little in haste, then hurried toward Redleaf Academy. Today, the Academy’s bulletin board would publish the martial exam list, including each contestant’s opponent and match time.

He arrived late; only a dozen or so people remained outside, huddled by the board and chatting.

From a distance, Ye Ran could hear their talk.

“Who’s this Ma Fang? Poor guy, he’s up against Samobi Qiu from the Thunder Temple.”

“Never heard of him, but I can already picture his fate. Hahaha…”

The laughter, part mockery, part jest, drifted to Ye Ran’s ears.

“And this Yamo, too—his opponent is Yu Bo from the Hall of Martial Excellence. Poor chap, Yu Bo escaped from the hands of a Devil’s Son, he’s a real expert.”

“Yamo? Isn’t that the eldest son of House At? I heard his inner strength is already at level five—not bad.”

“Still a pity. Yu Bo may not be a match for a Devil’s Son, but handling the At family’s eldest will be a breeze.”

Ye Ran felt a pang of sympathy for the golden-haired youth who had once provoked him, though he didn’t know Yu Bo personally. Just being an elite of the Hall of Martial Excellence was daunting enough.

As he walked closer, someone said, “Who’s this Ye Ran? The name sounds familiar—his opponent is from the Sixth Heaven Temple.”

“Ye Ran? That’s him! The kid who played tricks before the first written test, sparring with Wang Li and Lin Yuan. Don’t you remember? Wang Li asked his name and he wouldn’t tell, but word got out later.”

“Haha, that’s him! Always putting on airs. This time, up against someone from the Sixth Temple, his true colors will show.”

“Yes, hahaha…”

Ye Ran could only sigh inwardly.

So, the wheel turns—mocking Yamo just moments ago, and now it’s his own turn to be the subject of ridicule.