Daily life of a cultivation judge

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Yang Qing once again set about reawakening the ninefold natural yin array cicada.

She came to a few seconds later, but unlike the first time, she was far from composed. Her panic had shot through the roof. Not even the warm glow from the lark above could soothe her. In fact, given how terrified she was, the lark's effect had turned from beneficial to harmful. At this point, the only thing it seemed good for was keeping her lucid enough to continue enduring the tormenting fear brought on by Yang Qing's earlier statement.

As an expert in matters of the soul and mind—and given how plain the signs were—Yang Qing could easily tell how panicked she was. It prompted him to ramp up the calming effects of his spell, gradually dulling the edges of her fear. Just enough that she could at least function well enough to hold a conversation.

Once he felt he had done enough, Yang Qing asked, "Are you okay to talk?"

She wasn't. They both knew she wasn't. But what choice did she have?

"I am," said the ninefold cicada in a whimper.

Given how dispirited she looked and sounded, one would think she had only seconds left to live, and in her mind, that was indeed so, especially when her gaze inadvertently drifted to the large bubble filled with chilly, dark grey fog, floating gently beside Yang Qing.

Having all that nebulous yin qi inside her without knowing was already bad enough. But now, learning that a spiritual imprint had been embedded in her soul, along with some rune… that pushed things to another level.

She half-expected to drop dead any moment now. A part of her even started questioning whether the gorge around her was real, or just an illusory manifestation left behind by whoever had planted that imprint and rune.

It didn't take long for those suspicions to spill over to Yang Qing himself. She wondered if he was even real—or worse, if he was the owner of the very imprint and rune tormenting her.

Not that it matters anyway, the cicada thought in defeat.

The shock had numbed her so much that she stopped caring altogether as she surrendered herself to whatever fate had in store. Ironically, that very surrender gave her a strange sense of calm.

If her end was already written and she was a dead cicada walking, then what was the point of wasting her final moments running herself ragged with worry?

Yang Qing, unaware of the reason behind it, welcomed the return of her composure all the same.

"If you let me, I can examine it for you," Yang Qing offered openly, even though he could have easily done the check without her permission or even her knowledge.

The ninefold natural yin array cicada might have had a powerful soul, bolstered by innate abilities and soul-defense techniques, but against someone like Yang Qing, none of those mattered. Not only did he possess a soul that was already more powerful than hers, but the gap in cultivation between them rendered any of her defenses meaningless.

The cicada looked at him curiously wondering what he was up to. The curiosity-filled suspicion lasted but a second before the cicada gave up trying to figure it out. All of this was already far beyond her capacity to handle, with her mind already warming to the idea that her life was already forfeit. So, lacking any will or thought to resist, she gave her consent.

"Sure, go ahead," she said casually.

Yang Qing nodded in gratitude for the trust, even if it was less about trust and more about the cicada simply going with the flow, having already given up.

Yin Yang Genesis: Yin Star of Illumination

The hand holding the cicada burst into a mysterious white glow, radiating from a six-pointed star sigil. A white-blue mist flowed out from the sigil and drifted gently into the cicada's body.

For all the indifference she thought she had cultivated toward life and death, the ninefold natural yin array cicada still flinched slightly as she felt the aura of that sigil. Something within it made her soul tremble, though not out of fear, but from the overwhelming sensation of being seen through by a transcendent being.

However, that feeling came and went just as quickly as it got overwhelmed and replaced by a wave of refreshing coolness and deep relaxation. The cicada felt as though all the exhaustion and tension inside her was being washed away by a cool, cleansing spring that reached every part of her body and soul, purging every strain and burden she had been carrying.

Within seconds, she felt reborn. Her soul felt lighter, more fluid, like it had finally been allowed to breathe. And breathe she did, fully surrendering to the sensation of rest and tranquility washing over her.

While she remained lost in that blissful haze, changes had begun taking place on the outside—more specifically, transformations to her body brought on by Yang Qing's spell.

A white-blue, web-like sigil had spread across the entire surface of the cicada's body. Interwoven within the web were smaller sigils shaped like hexagonal stars. Despite her small size, her body was now covered in nearly a hundred of these star-shaped symbols.

Some of them glowed brightly with a pure white light. Others were faint, barely lit. And a final group remained completely dormant.

White-blue mist continued to flow from the sigil in Yang Qing's palm into the web-like sigil that had covered her entire body, which in turn funneled that mist into the small star sigils. It looked as though it was filling them up—likely the culprit behind the shine in those star sigils, or lack thereof.

Yin Yang Genesis: Yin Star of Illumination was Yang Qing's go-to spell for all matters concerning the soul.

Given how delicate and esoteric the soul was, anything related to it demanded a prudent and experienced touch, especially when probing into someone else's soul.

Peering into another person's soul carried significant risks for both parties. The one being examined risked having their soul damaged if the examiner wasn't either skilled enough or simply didn't care to be careful. And when it came to soul injuries, even the slightest damage could be far worse than the most severe physical wounds.

Physical injuries, at the very least, had countless treatments available, which combined with a cultivator's naturally high vitality, eased the burden of recovery. But a wounded soul was another matter entirely.