After the scholar left, a dark face filled Ye Yu’s entire vision.
It was the man known as Ye Tuhu, who had leaned in close.
“Good son, our Ye family has butchered for generations, so I swear that from your generation onward, the name ‘butcher’ will end!” he declared.
“I want our Ye family to produce a clean, scholarly gentleman who stands in the imperial court and enjoys all its honors!”
“You’ve always wanted that life too, haven’t you? Don’t worry—your old man will sell everything I have to help you.”
“From now on, every three days I’ll hire a scholar to read books aloud to you, so you can grow accustomed to the power of words.”
“What was that saying? ‘Cultivate reading from infancy’—you must work hard!”
Listening to Ye Tuhu’s endless nagging, Ye Yu felt his head about to explode.
“Old Dēng, do you have some terrible illness?” he thought.
“I was only born a day ago—by rights I shouldn’t even understand speech yet. What good does it do to have someone read to me?”
“More importantly, in this xuanhuan world, mere reading is useless. Even if you stood at the apex of the court, one day some evil cultivator might take offense and cut you down in an instant!”
“That’s far too insecure!”
“I won’t read books! I’ll become a cultivator! I will comprehend a brand-new Dao and return to the Divine Realm!”
Of course, Ye Yu’s resistance was ineffective. His baby-language protests only convinced Ye Tuhu that pressure was taking effect.
Time flew by.
By the age of five, Ye Yu fully understood his situation. This place was a small mortal dynasty, remote and peaceful, where ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) the people lived in relative prosperity.
His father was a butcher named Ye Sandao—sounds heroic, right? Actually it was Grandpa’s whim: since he was Ye Liangdao, his son naturally became Ye Sandao.
Ye Sandao lived up to his name: whether slaughtering pigs, oxen, or the lowest beasts of spirit, he did it in three strokes. His bone-stripping technique was so refined that meat and bone separated with a few precise cuts.
Thus, in the capital city, Ye Tuhu was somewhat renowned and much sought after. Over time he’d accumulated considerable wealth. He married his childhood playmate Jiang Nuannuan, and the next year she conceived Ye Yu.
As the saying goes, “When a man has money, he has ideas.” Ye Sandao refused to let his son continue the family trade, so for two years after Ye Yu’s birth, every three days he spent money to bring a scholar to read by his side.
Oh, and Ye Yu’s name was chosen by one of those scholars—otherwise he might have been Ye Sidao, in keeping with the lineage!
In fact, many parents hope their child will achieve what they themselves could not in youth. That’s natural. But not every child is willing to follow a parent’s plan. Life offers many paths: reading might be excellent, but changing a butcher’s destiny isn’t the only way.
“I could lead troops in battle and earn immortal merits. I could paint the world and become its greatest artist. I could cultivate a method to achieve eternal life. All these are possible. Father, please let me choose my own path!”
When five-year-old Ye Yu first spoke earnestly with Ye Sandao, his father’s dark face glistened with tears. Ye Yu thought he had succeeded—only to find Ye Sandao’s resolve even firmer.
“As the ancients said, ‘A man should study!’ You’re only five and already discussing grand principles—truly remarkable!” he chided. “Other children are still playing with mud and urine at the street corner!”
“This is the difference between reading and not reading. Son, study hard—you’ll surpass your old man!”
Listening to Ye Sandao’s ceaseless nagging drove Ye Yu to the brink of collapse. In this dream, the constant infant-era scolding left him with a lingering trauma: he couldn’t stand anyone’s endless chatter, or he would break down completely.
Seeing he couldn’t sway his father, Ye Yu retreated to his room and turned to his exclusive synthesis game—his dream-gifted power of Infinite Synthesis.
Through endless experiments he discovered that despite its name, Infinite Synthesis relied on his spirit power. For example, at his age he could only fuse ants ten times before his spirit grew so fatigued he couldn’t continue.
But after prolonged effort, he finally synthesized a monstrous ant over a meter long—truly a spirit beast. It had some intelligence and had even begun cultivating. Ye Yu once visited its nest and saw it sitting cross-legged in meditation.
Can you imagine a giant ant in lotus position? It was absurd, yet he could clearly feel spirit energy converging around it. It was astonishing—and showed him an alternative path of cultivation.
At eighteen, Ye Yu took the imperial examinations and emerged first, bringing glory to his family. He did it not only to satisfy Ye Sandao and Jiang Nuannuan, but most importantly, to make money—literally.
In this dream his talent was abysmal—a mixed spirit root. With such a root, even a small sect wouldn’t take him as a laborer. That shattered his dream of leaving home to cultivate abroad.
But changing that was simple: fuse his root with others’ to evolve into a high-grade spirit root. Yet as a butcher’s son, plundering others’ roots was impossible.
So Ye Yu devised another plan: by earning fame and modest wealth as a top scholar, he could purchase ordinary spirit roots. Was there anything more joyful?
