The Book Soul Chronicles: Godslayer

Ye Qingyang watched the wedding procession slowly depart until it disappeared. He turned around and looked at his gray-haired parents and his younger brother, whose face still showed youthful innocence, standing at the door to see the bride off. His expression was very complicated.

He saw his family whom he hadn't seen for a long time, but he couldn't be happy at all. He didn't know what to say to them. He had imagined countless times the scene of reuniting with his family.

He imagined they would embrace and cry, then happily eat his mother's cooking, chatting and watching his mischievous younger siblings playing around. He never imagined that when they met again, they would become the most familiar strangers to each other.

Everyone has their own ideas and their own path. Everyone is destined to embark on their own journey. Perhaps they are destined to part ways, and I am destined to spend my long life remembering them. Perhaps after hundreds or even thousands of years, I will even forget what they look like!

While his parents and younger brother were dealing with the congratulatory crowd outside, Ye Qingyang quietly slipped into the house. Looking at this place that was both familiar and unfamiliar, he took off his hat and fell into memories as he gazed at the scene before him.

In my memory, the osmanthus tree in the courtyard was a large, lush tree. Its trunk was thick and strong, as if it had withstood the test of countless years, yet it still stood tall.

Every autumn, the osmanthus trees burst into bloom, releasing a rich fragrance that soothes the soul. Those tiny golden blossoms, like scattered stars, adorn the green leaves, adding a vibrant touch to the entire autumn season.

We often sit under the osmanthus tree, looking up at its lush foliage, and breathing in its enchanting fragrance. That fragrance seems to penetrate my soul, allowing me to forget all my worries and immerse myself in this beautiful moment.

Whenever it was time to pick osmanthus flowers, my sister and I would shake the osmanthus tree together, and the flowers would fall like a golden rain, landing on our shoulders and heads. My mother and brother would pick up the fallen flowers from the ground, and we would be filled with laughter.

The osmanthus tree in my memory is not only a beautiful plant, but also a cherished memory of my childhood. It witnessed my growth and accompanied me through many joyful times.

Now, although I have left this familiar place, every autumn I always think of that osmanthus tree, those wonderful days, and how I used to play and chase with my little sister here when I was a child, and later my little brother. Those were the happiest and closest times for them.

Unfortunately, everything has changed now. My lovely younger sister has married someone else. This place used to be filled with wooden cabins and bamboo fences, but now it is the Ye Residence, with its blue brick and green tile houses and high walls.

Seeing this, Ye Qingyang's eyes were filled with sadness. He had watched helplessly as his family drifted apart from him, yet he could only move forward and not look back, just as he had when he left home for the Tiangang Sect, feeling both helpless and resolute.

"May I ask if you are here to attend the young lady's wedding ceremony?"

Ye Qingyang was in a sad mood when someone suddenly interrupted him. He quickly wiped away his tears to avoid being impolite in front of outsiders.

Ye Qingyang turned around, looked at the person in front of him, and asked.

"you are?"

Uncle Fu looked at the young master in front of him. He didn't seem to be there to attend the banquet. Instead, he seemed very sad and had a sense of vicissitude that was beyond his years. But no matter how he looked at him, he didn't feel that he was a bad person. Moreover, he looked somewhat familiar. He felt that he had seen him somewhere before. He didn't dare to make any wild guesses, so he could only go up and ask.

"Oh, I'm the manager of this Ye residence. You can just call me Uncle Fu."

Ye Qingyang looked at his face and saw that he seemed honest and kind, so he nodded.

"Uncle Fu, I did come to attend the wedding banquet, but something came up. Please give this to your host."

After saying that, he took out a bag of silver and a letter from his pocket and handed them over, which Uncle Fu quickly accepted.

This money was Ye Qingyang's last bit of savings; he used to send most of his monthly allowance home.

After learning medicine from Chu Xingyun, he earned money by collecting medicinal herbs and preparing medicines. Later, he simply sent all his monthly allowance home, along with some extra money he had earned himself.

Even so, he still makes preparations for both possibilities, saving a certain amount of money every month for emergencies. He is now truly grateful to his cautious self back then.

Uncle Fu was clearly somewhat surprised, but he had no right to refuse, so he quickly accepted it.

He cautiously inquired, "May I ask your name, young master, so that I may inform my master?"

Ye Qingyang had already thought it through and said, "There are letters here. You should hand them to them personally. Once they read them, they will naturally know what's going on."

Although Uncle Fu felt strange, he didn't dare to say anything and quickly agreed.