Chapter Three: The Abandoned Child of the Gods

Three days later, the Emperor of Xiangkong summoned the head of the Ye family and his son, specifically instructing them to bring along the thirteenth young master of the Ye family. After this audience with the Emperor, another piece of news began to circulate about the thirteenth young master: he now had a fiancée, none other than the youngest princess of the Empire, herself just newly born on the very same day as him, albeit a little earlier.

What made this union even more intriguing was that the little princess, too, had been born amidst radiant clouds, a sign that could easily be linked to divine providence. For this reason, the Emperor grew all the more convinced that the thirteenth young master and the little princess were a match ordained by the heavens.

It was not uncommon for a princess to be betrothed into the Ye family; such engagements, made from infancy, had occurred on numerous occasions—if not ten times, then certainly eight. Thus, no one objected, nor did anyone find it strange.

A month later, when the thirteenth young master turned one month old, the Ye family naturally held a grand banquet to celebrate. Nearly every civil and military official in the court was invited; even the Emperor himself attended, bringing along the princess, who was also one month old.

The Emperor’s intention was to allow the two infants to celebrate together, sparing both families the trouble of hosting separate guests and dividing their attentions. He chose not to hold the event in the palace, but at the Ye family estate—a choice made with his own reasons in mind.

Whatever the underlying motives, it was plain for all to see: the Emperor had shown the Ye family the utmost honor, and the thirteenth young master’s prestige soared once more.

One year later...

Matters began to take a subtle turn. While the thirteenth young master’s physical growth seemed satisfactory, it failed to meet the expectations of those who had predicted he’d be running, jumping, and talking by now. But—

“Chengtian, why is our child like this?” A noble and gentle woman from the Ye family gazed at her one-year-old son, worry clouding her features.

This woman was Long Anqi, mother of the thirteenth young master. The man she addressed as Chengtian was her husband, Ye Chengtian, who was also frowning.

Were they troubled because the so-called divine child was too exceptional, so much so that they could not bear it?

Far from it. On the contrary, he seemed less capable even than an ordinary child.

Typically, by the age of one, a child would be walking and speaking simple words. Yet the thirteenth young master could do neither.

“It’s all right. Some children are late to walk or talk, but when they grow up, they can be just as outstanding. This doesn’t mean anything,” Ye Chengtian said, furrowing his brow, attempting to comfort his wife—and perhaps himself as well.

Long Anqi, holding her son, smiled faintly, as if reassured by his words.

Indeed, some children develop later than others; it might mean nothing at all. Whether this was true for the thirteenth young master, only time would tell.

Two years later...

The thirteenth young master finally learned to walk and could call out to people, though only in the most rudimentary way. This left many disappointed, and a possibility began to dawn on them—a possibility they were reluctant to contemplate.

Among the Ye family, some were gladdened, others troubled. Those who cared for the thirteenth young master worried, while those at odds with Ye Chengtian’s branch were quietly pleased.

Yet there was one exception among those who cared—a little girl, perhaps too young to understand the situation, who was overjoyed for her brother. She was his lively elder sister, the one always eager to hold him in her arms.

She spent her days happily carrying her little brother, perhaps trying to make up for the regret of not having been able to do so before. Though she had grown, she was still just a child herself, making the sight of a five-year-old girl carrying a two-year-old boy both curious and endearing.

Such a scene exuded warmth, and the sibling bond between them was a delight to all who witnessed it.

Three years later...

By this time, it was common knowledge: the thirteenth young master was no prodigy, but rather, a simpleton—a fool, some might say.

Only now had he learned to say a few simple words, and his intellectual development was a profound disappointment. The contrast—once hailed as a divine child, now dismissed as a little dullard—was shocking to many.

On this day, the final verdict was rendered. The thirteenth young master was abandoned by all hope, save for his family.

On the Sacred Continent, it was tradition for every child, upon reaching the age of three, to have their innate attribute tested.

Innate attributes were unique to each individual; the majority of people possessed one, while only a rare few had two or more. The most common were wind, fire, earth, and water, while less common were light, darkness, space, and even rarer, mutated attributes—phenomena that might appear once in a millennium.

One’s innate attribute determined the branch of magic or martial energy in which one could excel, granting an extraordinary advantage—a difference that could shape the course of one’s life.

To put it plainly, a master of water attributes could wield water-based skills with unmatched power, yet if they used other elements, their abilities would be halved at best, rendering them mediocre.

Why was the test conducted at age three? As the saying went, “three years decide a lifetime.” By then, a child’s attributes were deemed set, unlikely to change.

The test results for the thirteenth young master were astonishing: he had no attribute at all—a phenomenon unseen in ten thousand years. Even the weakest, most peculiar individuals possessed at least one attribute.

A divine child, indeed—but now the phrase took on a different meaning. Where once he was the child favored by the gods, now he was the child forsaken by them.

A child inferior to ordinary people, even supreme intelligence would avail him little in a world where strength was everything. The powerless could never command true respect.

Moreover, his mental faculties lagged behind, marking him as a fool among fools.

Such thoughts were widely held, though none dared speak them aloud. Even if the thirteenth young master was an idiot, few would risk voicing it, at least not openly.

The power and influence of the Ye family could shelter this child for a lifetime, ensuring him a carefree existence. To insult him was to insult the Ye family—a consequence few could bear.

Perhaps, in this, there was a kind of fortune. Born into the Ye family, the thirteenth young master need not worry about survival. And his lack of intellect or talent kept him far from the struggles for power.

Perhaps this, too, was a blessing.