He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

This is the realm beyond Grandmaster that he learned from Old Jiang.

Above the celestial beings lies the martial arts mastery, and beyond that lies the terrestrial immortal god who can become a god in the human realm.

As for what goes on above that, Lao Jiang didn't say.

At the same time, he was also frantically reading the jade slips in Nachuan's bag.

The power of the "Innate Seed of Enlightenment" was pushed to its limit at this stage.

He only needed to read through each jade slip once to fully understand its profound meaning.

Those profound mysteries that would take ordinary martial artists years or even decades to comprehend were like plain words written on paper in his eyes, so clear that no further thought was needed.

He read 3,000 of the 103,000 volumes of secret manuals within half a year.

The seedling of the "Innate Enlightenment Seed" grows wildly during this process.

The third leaf unfolded silently one night when he was three and a half years old.

That leaf was different from the previous two.

Its color is not light green, but a very pale gold, with even denser light spots flowing between the veins, like a miniature galaxy sealed within a leaf.

The third leaf is "Tongwu".

From that moment on, all martial arts techniques in the world no longer posed a barrier to him.

He can grasp the core essence of any cultivation technique after reading it only once.

He can break down any martial art technique into its most basic movement units in his mind and then perfectly reproduce it once he has seen someone else perform it.

Learn by analogy and apply knowledge to new situations.

This is the truly terrifying aspect of the "innate seed of enlightenment".

When I was four years old, a heavy snow fell in Luozhou City that winter.

Yun Wantong's business tripled in that year, and he expanded his business to the capital and then to the Jiangnan region.

Silver flowed in like water and was spent like water—most of it became various cultivation resources in Yunyi's courtyard.

Medicinal herbs, alchemy furnaces, weapons, armor—Yun Wantong didn't know how to use these things, but he understood one principle:

He buys his son whatever he wants.

He has nothing else but money.

That winter, the three northern states suffered a snow disaster unlike any seen in a century.

Heavy snow blocked the mountains and cut off roads, leaving hundreds of thousands of disaster victims displaced and flocking to southern states.

Luozhou City was located at a strategic crossroads between the north and south. Disaster victims poured in like a tide, and people who had frozen to death could be seen being carried away from the city gates every day.

The government set up soup kitchens, but it was far from enough.

Yun Wantong made a decision—he would open the granaries and distribute grain.

"Sir, we are merchants, not government officials."

The accountant earnestly advised, "This is a matter for the imperial court to handle; we don't need to get involved."

"The imperial court?"

Yun Wantong sneered, "The disaster relief grain sent by the imperial court from the capital arrived in Luozhou, but by then half of the disaster victims had already starved to death."

He slammed his hand on the table, making the abacus rattle loudly.

"I, Yun Wantong, have made money my whole life. Now that my son is successful, what am I going to do with all that money? Take it to my grave?"

The accountant opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing.

Yun Wantong is usually as shrewd as an old fox, and he'll stretch every penny in half.

But once a decision is made, nothing can change it.

From that day on, the Yun family set up soup kitchens outside the city.

At first there were only three, then it became ten, and then thirty.

The Yun family's granary was being hauled out cartload after cartload of white rice porridge, which was being cooked from morning till night, and from night till morning.

The disaster victims lined up in a long queue, each receiving a bowl, no more and no less.

Yun Wantong personally oversaw the operation.

He stood beside the soup kitchen, wearing his thickest cotton robe, watching the disaster victims wolfing down their food, his expression complex.

Yun Yi also arrived.

He sat in a carriage, lifting the curtain to look outside.

The four-year-old child was already taller than his peers, and although his features still showed signs of immaturity, his gaze was calmer than that of a child.

He was looking into the eyes of the disaster victims.

Emptiness, numbness, despair.

That's the look that only comes after being repeatedly crushed by fate.

"master!"

A manager rushed over and whispered a few words in Yun Wantong's ear.

Yun Wantong frowned.

"Where?"

"It's in the alley behind the soup kitchen."

Yun Wantong turned and left, walking much faster than usual.

Yun Yi jumped down from the carriage and followed silently.

The alley isn't deep; you'll arrive after just two turns.

At the end of the alley, a couple was squatting.

The man was as thin as a bamboo pole, with high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and a tattered cotton-padded jacket that revealed grayish-black cotton wadding.

The woman knelt beside him, her hair disheveled like dry grass, her lips frozen purple, and she tightly hugged a little girl in her arms.

The little girl was about the same age as Yun Yi.

He looked about three or four years old, very thin, but with big, bright eyes.

She nestled in her mother's arms, not crying, but quietly watching Yun Wantong and his entourage approach.

There was no fear or pleading in her eyes, only a calmness completely out of character for her age.

There was a grass marker stuck in the ground in front of the girl.

Yun Wantong stopped in his tracks.

He stared at the straw marker, his face turning grim.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was very low.

The man trembled, his lips moved for a long time before he finally managed to squeeze out a few words:

"Sell...sell my daughter."

Why?

"I...I can't survive."

As the man spoke, tears streamed down his face. The tears left two sharp streaks on his chapped, frozen face.

"Sir, please have mercy and buy her."

"Just give me some food, just give me some food..."

The woman suddenly spoke, her voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping wood, "We don't ask for much, we just ask you to give her a way to live."

"What if nobody buys it... what if nobody buys it..."

She couldn't continue.

But Yun Wantong knew what she hadn't finished saying.

If no one buys it, it will have to be sold as a two-legged sheep.

This is not the first time such a thing has happened during this snow disaster.

The disaster victims were starving; they ate and sold anything they could find.

Selling one's children is considered having a conscience; at least it's about finding a way for the children to survive.

Yun Wantong remained silent for a long time.

He looked at the little girl, and the little girl looked at him.

Eyes facing each other.

The little girl suddenly smiled at him.

That smile was very light and faint, like a small wildflower blooming in the snow, so fragile that it could be blown away by the wind at any moment.

But she did smile, not ingratiatingly, not begging, but a simple, childlike smile that wanted to express goodwill.

Yun Wantong's heart was struck hard by something.

"How old is this child?"

"Four...four years old."

Four years old, the same age as his son.

Yun Wantong squatted down so that he and the little girl were at eye level.

"What's your name?"

The little girl shook her head.

She has no name.

Or rather, the disaster struck before it even had a name.

Yun Wantong took a deep breath and stood up.

"I'll buy this child."

He took a silver ingot out of his sleeve and placed it in front of the man.

That silver ingot was worth ten taels, enough for the couple to get through the winter with some left over.

"Take the money, go buy some food, and find a place to stay."

"If you have nowhere to go when spring comes, come to the Yun Family Trading Company and I'll arrange work for you."

The man stared at the silver ingot, trembling all over.

He wanted to say something, but his lips trembled so badly that he couldn't utter a single word.

Finally, he knelt down abruptly, his forehead slamming heavily against the frozen ground with a dull thud.

The woman also knelt down.

Yun Wantong did not stop them.

He knew that stopping them at this point would only make the couple feel worse.

He turned to look at the steward:

"Take this child back to the manor and have the kitchen cook her a bowl of meat porridge, but don't put too much oil in it; people who have been hungry for a long time can't stand greasy food."

"Go and ask another doctor to take a look and prescribe some mild tonics."