Qin Yi had anticipated this moment ever since the Young Master from the Hou Mansion had made the rare exception to stop and speak with him.
When it finally happened, his previously anxious, unsettled heart surprisingly settled into calm.
Listening to his father's instructions, Qin Yi felt not the slightest worry.
After all, he had already faced the Young Master directly.
Except for a brief moment of distraction at the very beginning, once he had prepared himself, his mind was no longer overwhelmed.
Whether it was due to his mature mental faculties or some effect of the "game panel," he did not know. Seeing his parents' concern, he nodded firmly to show he had taken their words to heart, without openly expressing his confidence.
Qin Yong carried Qin Yi to Huang Lao, respectfully pleading,
"The child is young. Please allow me to escort him to the front gate."
Huang Lao glanced at Qin Yi, who kept his head lowered, clearly following Qin Yong's instructions. He did not mind the delay; after hearing Qin Yong's request, he offered no objection.
"All right, let us go. We must not keep the Young Master waiting."
Without hesitation, Huang Lao turned and began walking.
Qin Yong followed closely, body tense, moving with the utmost respect. When they reached the side gate of the West Village Mansion, Qin Yong tightened his hold on Qin Yi once more before setting him down.
Standing in place, Qin Yi turned to glance at his father.
Qin Yong's eyes were red, filled with concern.
Qin Yi smiled brightly, waving his right hand just as he did when playing in the East Village wilderness.
"Farewell, Father."
Tears blurred Qin Yong's vision, and his body twitched, mouth opening to call out, but Qin Yi had already turned and, with quick little steps, followed Huang Lao into the gate, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye.
Huang Lao walked steadily without changing pace. Qin Yi had no choice but to follow carefully, glancing at Huang Lao's back. For a moment, his mind wavered, but he quickly regained focus, cautiously running after him.
Though Huang Lao never looked back, it was as if he could see Qin Yi the entire time. At the instant Qin Yi's mind recovered, Huang Lao's eyes lit up with surprise and excitement.
He had misjudged the child.
Among the countless talents Huang Lao had encountered over his decades of life, this child's body constitution was average, nothing remarkable. Yet his innate intelligence was undoubtedly among the best.
Which was more important—constitution or intelligence? Opinions differed.
A weak constitution could be compensated with resources, but poor intelligence was nearly impossible to improve with resources alone.
Some bluntly summarized, "Constitution sets the lower limit of a martial artist; intelligence sets the upper limit."
In fact, renowned martial artists tended to favor intelligence when choosing disciples.
Though Huang Lao was shocked internally, he showed no outward reaction. Like a machine, he continued each step with exact precision, walking in straight lines, turning at right angles, and finally arriving at the main hall with the plaque "Tranquility Leads to Far-reaching Goals" above the door.
"The Young Master, the child has been brought."
"Please enter."
Qin Yi remembered his father's teachings. Mimicking his father, he kept his head lowered, walking very respectfully into the hall. Upon reaching the Young Master's seat, he bowed.
"Greetings, Young Master."
Qin Xu looked at the small child, just over two feet tall, bowing like an adult. A smile appeared on his face, and his tone softened:
"Do not be nervous. We share the same ancestry and bloodline. I am of the same generation as your father. You may call me 'uncle.'"
"Thank you for your kindness, Young Master," Qin Yi replied respectfully, fully aware of the vast difference in status, power, and life-and-death authority. He would never dare address him casually as 'uncle.'
Qin Xu seemed accustomed to such situations and merely smiled, shaking his head. He continued,
"Do you have a name?"
"I only have a childhood name, Da Tou. Father has not yet given me a formal name," Qin Yi replied, head lowered in respect.
Qin Xu frowned slightly, instructing,
"I know you are gifted and can face me directly… lift your head and speak."
Obediently, Qin Yi lifted his head for the first time, using an upward gaze to examine the Young Master.
Qin Xu's face was pale, his body thin. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes, suggesting poor rest. Though it was late spring and the weather was warm, he wore a thick fur coat, revealing a weak constitution and sensitivity to cold—possibly even serious illness.
Qin Xu watched quietly as Qin Yi observed him, then asked with a smile,
"What do you see?"
After hesitation, Qin Yi replied,
"You have an illness, Young Master."
Qin Xu laughed heartily.
"You are the first person to say that to my face, haha…"
In his laughter, his martial aura surged unexpectedly. Qin Yi felt as if he were a newborn rabbit facing a hungry tiger, frozen in fear, trembling in place.
Realizing his excitement had let his aura slip, Qin Xu restrained it, controlling himself. Yet seeing Qin Yi recover after a few deep breaths, his expression softened with genuine admiration.
"You only have a childhood name. That is not suitable. Shall I give you a proper name?"
Qin Yi paused, then resolutely replied,
"Thank you for your kindness, Young Master, but I wish to name myself."
"Oh? Have you chosen? Which character?" Qin Xu asked, intrigued, not offended by Qin Yi's refusal of his naming.
"Uh… I have an idea in my mind, but I cannot yet write, so I do not know which character to choose," Qin Yi admitted, slightly embarrassed.
Qin Xu nodded appreciatively, approving Qin Yi's approach.
"A name reflects one's aspirations. That you take it seriously and insist on naming yourself is very rare… Very well, I will wait for the name you choose yourself."
(End of Chapter 20)