Translator: Timothy Editor: GlobeGlotter
The diaryâs first page had the picture of a young girl. Ye Mo could tell that that was the young Sister Yan. Ye Mo felt that even now, there wasnât much of a difference between the two. On the right side, there were the words âYin Qingyanâs diaryâ.
Yin Qingyan? Was that Sister Yanâs name? Ye Mo suddenly remembered how she had said that his mother was Yin Qingcheng. Was she his aunty then? Ye Mo frowned. If she was, then wasnât the way she had acted with him a bit over the line?
Although it was fine in Luo Yue Continent for aunt and niece to marry the same person, this was earth. Ye Mo soon shook his head. Perhaps she was missing his mother. Ye Mo banged his head - he was thinking too much about it.
After having done that with Song Yangzhu and after living with Ning Qingxue daily, his thinking seemed to have become dirty.
Ye Mo shook his head and flipped to the next page. The words were much more obscure and crooked. Ye Mo suspected a little kid must have written it, and there wasnât much content.
"1980, the 8th of April, a sunny day. Today we were at the Mao Ci Wan market place. My dad and sister brought me along, and I used the money dad gave me to buy a diary. I really like this book. Iâm six now, and I finally have my own diary."
Afterwards, there were some trivial things, like the things she did with her sister. From her words, it would seem that her sister protected her a lot.
"1981, the 25th of January, a snowy day. A big brother came to our family. Heâs a few years older than sister, amd he became our martial brother. We call him Ye Cai."
....
"1982, the 16th of February, a sunny day. Dad always liked to make us practice martial arts everyday, but I didnât like it. I only like that ancient music instrument. Later on, martial brother and sister practiced martial arts, while I practiced music. At the start, my dad would tell me off, but later on, he didnât say anything and supported me instead."
"1982, the 27th of March, a rainy day. A friend of dadâs came over. He said I was very talented and said I should participate in a tournament and thay I can win number one in the country for the young generation. He wanted me to go to Beijing, but I didnât want to. Dad just asked me and afterwards declined that personâs offer.
....
"1983, the 19th of November, a cloudy day. I wasnât in a good mood today. I have the feeling that the music I play isnât good at all. I feel dadâs mood also isnât good."
....
"1984, the 21st of June, a cloudy day. Martial brother and sister are both very nice to me, perhaps because Iâm the youngest. When there is good food or good toys, sister lets me have a pick first. Sister never fought over anything with me. Dad is also very nice to me and has never criticized me, but he always reproaches sister. Sometimes, she would even cry, and he always lets me pick the good stuff first before letting sister choose. Thatâs why Iâve been thinking, âIs sister not his real daughter?â"
The plane suddenly shook a bit, so Ye Mo sent out his spirit sense. There was some turbulence. A flight attendant still pushed her trolley over and looked at Ye Mo and asked, "Sir, do you need anything to drink?"
"Sure, Iâll have a cup of orange juice," Ye Mo said casually and took the orange juice from her. Then, as he subconsciously glanced at this flight attendant, he smiled intriguingly. He noticed that there was a pistol under the trolley.
The flight attendant saw Ye Mo smile and blushed. She was very pretty, and she knew that those who could fly between Hong Kong and San Francisco were usually rich people. The young man who smiled at her was quite good-looking, and the main thing about him was that he had a certain special temperament. At that moment, she even forgot to keep going.
Ye Mo patted her trolley and quickly grabbed the pistol under the trolley, and he destroyed the internal structure while leaving a spirit sense mark on it before putting it back.
He originally thought the pistol belonged to the flight attendant, but apparently it was not. She didnât even know there was a pistol there.
Ye Mo put the diary away. He could look at it after he went back. Since he found a pistol, something had to be wrong with this plane. Ye Mo thought of Ning Qingxueâs plane - that had also been between Hong Kong and San Francisco.
The flight attendant quickly pushed the trolley further down the aisle and gave a cup of coffee to some man.
Ye Mo kept his spirit sense scanning around, but even after the flight attendant had pushed the trolley all the way back and forth, no one had taken the pistol. Ye Mo was confused. Did someone forget the pistol there, or did it belong to the flight attendant after all?
The flight attendant stopped the trolley, and she started chatting with other flight attendants. There were five of them altogether. Ye Mo retrieved his spirit sense. He had marked the gun anyways and would know who took it.
"Are you going to San Francisco on holiday?" The person sitting next to Ye Mo broke Ye Moâs train of thought.
Ye Mo just then took a proper look at him. It was an old man in his 60s. He looked like he was in good spirits, but Ye Mo knew that this old man was about to die. Ye Mo was curious to see what disease he had. Why would he still travel to the US when he was about to die?
The old manâs condition was very strange. Although Ye Mo didnât use his chi to check the old manâs body, his spirit sense was usually enough to see what the disease was, but this time it wasnât. If it wasnât for him being able to sense the death chi circulating around the old man, he wouldnât even have known that the old man was sick.
Ye Mo smiled and replied, "You could say that. I went to find someone, and then I went around here and there."
He wasnât interested in talking to this old man. He just felt the old manâs condition was strange, but it didnât matter to him that much.
"Young man, you seem quite strong. Youâre probably from an ancient martial arts family, right? About that gun, Iâm sure that it doesnât belong to you, but you know that since someone put a gun there, it means that he has other plans. The passengers are innocent, so why did you put the pistol back?" The old manâs words shocked Ye Mo.
Ye Mo immediately focused and properly scanned the old man with his spirit sense. He really didnât have any power qi inside of him. How could someone like that see through Ye Moâs actions? Even though he didnât intentionally try to mask his movements with magic, he was sure that even most black levels wouldnât be able to see his actions. Yet the only thing the old man didnât see was that he had damaged the gun.
"Youâre very strong too! You could tell that I touched the pistol, so youâre probably not going to San Francisco on holiday, right?" Ye Moâs voice went cold. He even suspected that the old man had spirit sense, and that he might be a cultivator as well, one far stronger than him at that.
When it came to ancient martial artists, even if they reached a state Ye Mo didnât know about, he would still be able to know how strong they were, because they couldnât hide their qi waves from his spirit sense.
But it was different for spirit chi cultivators. If their power far surpassed his, he wouldnât be able to tell there was anything abnormal about them.
"Haha, donât worry. Iâm just a useless person who can read a bit if Feng Shui," the old man explained.
There was no way. Ye Mo was still doubtful, but he didnât question the old man.
Seeing that Ye Mo didnât speak, the old man said again, "Young man, if you donât mind, I can look at your palm for you."
Ye Mo wanted to just reject the old man, but thinking about how the old man had been able to notice his actions, he changed his mind.
As soon as Ye Mo reached out his hands though, a young man at the back stood up and said, "Grandpa, your body isnât well. You shouldnât do that."
Ye Mo didnât turn back, but he did scan the young man. He was only in his 20s but also had death chi surrounding him, even though it was much fainter.
The old man waved his hand, "Xiao Ku, donât worry, I know."