Chapter Two: The Thirteenth Young Lord

In one of the courtyards of the Ye residence, a group of people stood together. Among them, the speaker was a remarkably handsome and graceful young man, exuding an extraordinary presence—though he was somewhat older than the typical youth, the sort commonly referred to as a man of advanced youth.

“Naturally, my grandson cannot be an ordinary person. One day, he will be a great figure, able to summon wind and rain with a turn of his hand,” declared a dignified middle-aged man standing beside him. As he spoke, his gaze lingered on the glowing clouds above, a look of puzzlement flickering in his eyes.

“You two just know how to bicker. Your wife is inside suffering, and here you are making light of the situation. And who says it has to be a grandson? Perhaps it’s a lovely little granddaughter. What does that glorious sky have to do with the child? It’s just some unusual phenomenon,” a noble and beautiful woman nearby scolded the two men, her tone none too friendly.

“If I say it’s a grandson, then it’s a grandson. If I say it’s your grandson causing that vision in the sky, then that’s how it is. What would a woman know?” the middle-aged man retorted with authority.

“Exactly, exactly—ah, my mistake…” The older youth nodded in agreement but suddenly realized something was amiss—

“You little rascal! Sometimes I regret giving birth to you. If only you’d been a daughter instead—look at your sisters, so considerate, unlike you, always conspiring with that old man to vex me,” the lady said loudly, twisting his ear while shooting a glare at the middle-aged man.

“What’s so great about having daughters? You only gave me one son; if you lose him, I’ll divorce you and find another wife,” the man shot back immediately.

“How dare you! Didn’t you say I would be your only wife for life? Now you think I’m old and want to find someone new?” the lady retorted, eyes flashing with indignation.

“My dearest, my love for you is as constant as the sun and moon above—unchanging and eternal. I swore to love only you, and I always will,” the man said, grasping her hand with deep affection.

“Husband…”

“Wife…”

There, beneath the radiant clouds, the couple continued their decades-long romance, exchanging sweet nothings.

“Lian’er, my love for you is like these endless clouds, boundless and unceasing…” As the middle-aged man gazed at the sky, waxing poetic, a sudden disturbance occurred.

The clouds above grew ever brighter, more beautiful, unforgettable for a lifetime. Strangely, many present felt a peculiar illusion: the clouds seemed to be surging toward a particular part of the imperial capital. Stranger still, they vanished abruptly, as if they had never been.

The sky returned to normal, leaving many to wonder if they had simply dreamed it all.

But at that moment, those present paid no mind to the change—for they heard the unmistakable cry of a newborn.

“Congratulations, sir, congratulations!” came the familiar phrase from a beaming old nurse.

“How is the young mistress?” the older youth inquired.

“Mother and child are safe…” The nurse had barely finished when she noticed the older youth had disappeared, vanishing like the wind.

“Mother and child are safe! See? I was right—it’s a grandson,” the middle-aged man said proudly, still embracing his wife, who pinched him in annoyance.

“And what about the previous times you said it was a grandson?” she demanded.

“A little brother, a little brother! Sister, we have a little brother!” cried a young girl, tugging her slightly older sister and running indoors, a solemn-looking boy trailing behind.

The presence of these sisters was proof enough to undermine the man’s claims.

“Well, I was right once before… Strange, where did the clouds go?” the man quickly changed the subject, glancing skyward.

“Yes, it seems as soon as our little grandson was born, the clouds vanished. Quite odd,” the lady murmured, frowning in confusion.

Before the man could boast again, she suddenly recalled something.

“You said just now that your love for me was as unending as the clouds… And now the clouds are gone.”

“Ahem, well…”

“Hmph!”

…

While the old couple bantered outside, inside another pair gazed at each other with deep affection. The older youth, and a woman who had just given birth, lay on the bed. Though she looked frail, her radiant charm was undiminished.

“My dear, you’ve worked so hard,” the man said, gripping her delicate hand, his eyes never leaving hers—as if the newborn lying beside her did not exist.

This scene seemed to declare that, unlike other men, at this moment he cared most for his wife, not his son.

“Don’t pretend—you’re dying to hold your son,” the woman said with a gentle smile, understanding his feelings. She wasn’t accusing him of feigning, only acknowledging both his concern for her and his eagerness to hold their child, as any loving wife would.

She felt content, grateful for her husband’s care and devotion.

“Hehe, then let me hold our precious son…” He laughed and, without hesitation, picked up the swaddled infant.

“Black eyes, just a few tufts of hair—can’t even tell the color yet…” he mused, holding the baby and studying him.

“Father, Father, I want to hold my little brother too,” piped up the lively young girl from the side, but with her small frame, who would dare let her hold the baby?

“No mischief. You may look, but no holding,” the father replied firmly.

“Hmph, then let me see!” the girl huffed, but leaned over joyfully, the other two children crowding in as well.

“Wow, little brother is so cute…”

“Yes…”

“He is…”

The three children chattered excitedly as the parents watched, the room filled with warmth and happiness—the feeling of home.

The newborn, however, seemed oblivious to it all, crying loudly in his swaddling clothes…

…

By the next morning, rumors swept through the city: yesterday’s miracle was the doing of a single person—a newborn child, the newly arrived Thirteenth Young Master of the Ye family.

Thirteenth Young Master did not mean his father had so many children; rather, it referred to his ranking among the male cousins of his generation. Within the main family, he was thirteenth. In the entire Ye clan, he would have been perhaps the thousandth and one Young Master—or higher.

A miracle, combined with a prominent family name, instantly made the Thirteenth Young Master the city’s focus and earned him the title “Child of the Gods.” No one doubted it, at least for now.

And so, this newborn, still in his swaddling clothes, became famous across the land.

Many had already made their predictions: this child’s future would be extraordinary, and some even imagined his entire life.

At one, he would walk, run, and speak—his talents revealed early;
At two, he would read and write, well-read and showing his potential;
At three, he would begin training in martial arts or magic, sure to be a prodigy;
At five, he would enter the Royal Academy of the imperial capital, excelling above his peers;
At ten, he would venture out to broaden his experience, gaining fame and becoming a legend;
At twenty, he would become a regional lord, build his own power, and rise to dominance.

It would be impossible for him to live an ordinary life; he was destined to be the center of attention. Along the way, he would meet remarkable people, build enterprises, command kingdoms, and encounter women of all kinds—perhaps even experience a few gentle romances…

…

But was this truly the fate that awaited him?