Maybe My Soulmate! (GL)

The moment her gaze landed on Yubing, her composure shattered. A sound, half-sob, half-gasp, tore from her throat. She didn’t walk. She ran.

Gone was the noble matriarch of the Su family, a woman known for her unshakable grace. In her place was just a mother, her refined silks rustling as she sprinted across the polished stone, all decorum forgotten in a torrent of desperate relief.

”Yubing!” she cried, her voice breaking on the single word, a sound filled with a year’s worth of sleepless nights and silent fears.

Yubing’s own icy calm, a shield she had painstakingly forged over the past year, finally cracked. She met her mother halfway, and Lady Su crashed into her, her arms wrapping around her with a strength that seemed impossible for her slender frame. She buried her face in her daughter’s shoulder, her body shaking with silent, wracking sobs that spoke of a dam of anxiety finally breaking.

”My daughter... my child... you’re home,” she wept, her words muffled against the fabric of Yubing’s travel-worn robes. ”You’re truly home. You’re safe.”

Yubing closed her eyes, the familiar scent of her mother’s perfume—sandalwood and winter plum—filling her senses and grounding her in a way nothing else could. Her voice was thick with emotion she rarely showed, a vulnerability reserved only for a precious few. ”I’m home, Mother. I’m safe.”

A second figure appeared in the doorway of the main hall. He was tall and broad, his presence commanding even without a word. Lord Su. His face was a stoic mask, but his clenched fists and the stark pallor beneath his tan betrayed the storm raging within him. He walked quickly towards them, his steps heavy on the stone, each one betraying the practiced calm he fought so hard to maintain.

He reached them and placed a large, trembling hand on Yubing’s shoulder. His grip was tight, not just a greeting but an anchor, as if he needed to physically confirm she was real and not a mirage born of hope. ”You had us worried,” he said, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of a year’s worth of unspoken fear. ”A year. Not a single word for six months.”

”I’m sorry, Father,” Yubing said softly, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. She could see the deep lines of worry etched around his eyes that hadn’t been there a year ago. ”It was... complicated.”

Lord Su just shook his head, a single, sharp motion. His eyes shone with a faint, unshed moisture, a weakness he would never allow to fall. ”It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. ”You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Mo Yuxin stood a few feet back, her arms loosely crossed, a silent observer to the raw, powerful reunion. She felt a pang in her chest—not jealousy, but a deep, profound understanding. This was sacred. This was the circle of a family reforging itself after being broken. She was an outsider here, a witness to a private healing, and she knew it.

Lord Su’s gaze flickered over her briefly, acknowledging her presence with the barest of nods but dismissing her as unimportant—for now. His world had narrowed to his daughter. Yuxin didn’t mind. This was their moment. She was content to stand back and watch her Yubing, her strong, unshakeable Yubing, allow herself to be vulnerable and heal a wound a year deep.

Lady Su finally pulled back after a long, long time, though she never once let go of Yubing’s arm, her fingers clutching the fabric as if afraid of letting go would make her daughter vanish again. Her hands fluttered across her daughter’s face, her shoulders, her arms, as if checking for cracks in a priceless piece of jade. ”You’re thinner. And taller. And your eyes...” Her voice trembled, her hand gently cupping her daughter’s cheek. ”Oh, my child, what have you seen?”

Before Yubing could answer, before she could even begin to formulate a response that wasn’t a lie, Lord Su clapped his hands once, the sharp sound echoing in the courtyard. His commanding tone, the voice of the clan leader, returned. ”Inside. Let’s go inside. The whole household needs to see you are safe. And you must be hungry. I want the kitchens to prepare a feast at once! Spare no expense!”

The news had indeed spread like wildfire. The guard who had run off had done his job well. As they moved toward the main hall, servants and retainers appeared from every corner, lining the meticulously raked gravel pathways. They didn’t crowd or cheer; the discipline of the Su household was too ingrained for that. Instead, they bowed deeply, their faces, which had been tight with worry for months, now glowing with genuine relief and respect. The heavy, oppressive fog that had haunted the estate for a year had lifted, and in its place came a vibrant, celebratory energy that was almost palpable.

The main hall was cavernous, supported by polished wood pillars as dark as night, each one carved from a single, ancient ironwood tree. Priceless antiques, calligraphic scrolls from famed masters, and spiritual relics from past victories decorated the walls. It had always been a place designed to intimidate visitors and remind them of the Su family’s power. But today, with the family’s heart returned, it felt almost like a living room.

Lord Su began barking orders immediately, and the well-oiled machine of the villa sprang to life. The head chef, a portly man with a magnificent, well-waxed mustache, came running, bowing so deeply his belly nearly brushed the floor before promising a banquet worthy of an emperor’s return.

Lady Su guided Yubing to the main table, the place of honor, still clinging tightly to her arm. ”Sit, sit. Tell us everything. Where have you been? Your letters stopped coming. We received the last one six months ago from that town by the Crimson Peaks, and then... nothing. We sent people. We feared the worst.”

Yuxin quietly slipped into the seat beside Yubing, feeling a little like a shadow among all this bright, focused light. She was content to be furniture for now, an accessory to Yubing’s grand return.

Yubing straightened, took a sip of the tea that had instantly appeared before her, and began to weave her tale. The truth was impossible. She couldn’t tell them about the forbidden tombs they’d plundered, the dangerous flirtations with demonic cultivation techniques they’d stumbled upon, or the life-or-death battles against vengeful spirits that had almost cost them their lives and had forged their bond in soul-fire.

Instead, she offered them a neat, plausible, and impressive cultivator’s travelogue, a story they had rehearsed on the road back.

”After leaving the city, Yuxin and I traveled east, toward the jagged peaks,” she said evenly, her voice calm and measured. ”We encountered the Red Wolf bandit clan that had been plaguing the trade routes. They were Foundation stage cultivators, but disorganized. We dispatched them.”

Lord Su gave a short, sharp nod of approval. ”Good. The Merchants’ Guild has been complaining about them for years. You’ve done the city a service.”

”Then we found a collapsed grotto, hidden behind a dried-up waterfall,” she continued, her narrative smooth and believable. ”It was a minor secret realm left by a wandering cultivator centuries ago. We were trapped inside when the entrance collapsed further in a rockslide. We stayed there for several months, unable to send word. The spiritual energy was dense, untouched. It was there I consolidated my foundation and made my breakthroughs.”

Her parents leaned closer, enthralled. This was a story they could understand, a classic tale of hardship, lucky opportunity, and righteous growth. It was the perfect cover.

She was just describing a new, entirely fictional sword technique she had ”developed” while fighting a spiritual beast in the grotto when the doors to the hall burst open again. This time, it wasn’t one or two people—it was a flood.

The side branches of the Su family had arrived. Her father’s three younger brothers with their wives and children, her mother’s two sisters with their husbands, and a whole cluster of cousins of varying ages poured in, their faces glowing with excitement and relief. Behind them, moving with more gravity, came the elders, their long white beards and serene faces doing little to hide the urgent curiosity in their eyes.

The once cavernous hall filled instantly, buzzing with chatter and the rustle of expensive silks. But discipline was deeply ingrained in the Su clan. As one, the entire assembly, from the most powerful elder to the youngest snot-nosed cousin, bowed deeply.

”We welcome the Young Miss home!” their voices rang out in unison.

The formality lasted only a moment before it crumbled under the weight of genuine affection and pent-up excitement.

”Yubing, you foolish girl, you made your aunties sick with worry!” cried one of her aunts, rushing forward with teary eyes to fuss over her robes.

”Cousin! Your sword intent... it’s terrifying! What have you been doing?” a younger cousin, a boy who had always tried to compete with her, gasped, his voice a mixture of awe and fear. He could feel the sheer pressure coming off her even when she was perfectly still.

The elders approached more slowly, their gazes sharp and analytical. The great elder, a man whose beard was as white as snow and reached his waist, stroked it thoughtfully. ”Yubing, your aura... it is contained, placid as a deep lake on a windless day. Remarkable. We cannot see through your cultivation. You must have reached at least the middle Foundation stage, no?”

Yubing only gave him a small, humble smile, a slight inclination of her head. ”Great Elder is too kind. I was merely fortunate.”

Her humility only deepened their admiration. This wasn’t the slightly hesitant, though brilliant, girl who had left a year ago. This was a woman transformed—confident, powerful, and impossibly steady. This was the heir who was born to lead. The Su family’s future was secure.

Amid the happy chaos, Mo Yuxin sat quietly, an amused smile playing on her lips as she watched her Yubing handle her sprawling, powerful family with the poise of a seasoned ruler.

Finally, as the servants began bringing in steaming dish after steaming dish and the crowd settled into their seats for the banquet, Lady Su’s sharp eyes, having assured herself of her daughter’s well-being, shifted to the silent girl beside her.

”Yubing, dear,” she said gently, her voice cutting through the low hum of conversation. ”You haven’t introduced us to your friend.”

The room hushed. Dozens of curious eyes turned toward Yuxin. Lord Su looked at her properly for the first time, his gaze sharp and appraising, no longer dismissing her.

Yubing’s serene, leader-like mask cracked, and what replaced it shocked them all—a look of profound, unguarded affection so open and brilliant it was like the sun breaking through clouds. She turned, her eyes glowing with a soft, inner light as she gazed at Yuxin.

”This,” she said clearly, her voice carrying across the now-silent hall, ”is Mo Yuxin. Many of you may remember her from a year ago. We met at the start of my journey, and we have been together ever since.”

The name rippled through the hall like a thunderclap. Several cousins gasped. One sharp-faced young man, Su Wei, who was known for being a gossip, nearly choked on a rice ball.

”Wait—Mo Yuxin? From the Mo family? The one who—” His voice cracked with disbelief. ”She’s a legend! Everyone in the city still tells the story!”

Recognition spread like wildfire across the faces around them. This wasn’t just some traveling companion. This was the ruthless, brilliant girl who had single-handedly dismantled her own clan’s corrupt main branch, exposed their crimes, and walked away with their dignity and a good portion of their treasury. The elders exchanged urgent, meaningful glances. A talent like this, unattached and already deeply tied to their heir, was a priceless treasure. They had to get her on their side.

It was Lady Su’s voice that cut through the renewed wave of noise, her tone calm but sharp with dawning realization. ”Mo... Yuxin...” she repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Yuxin’s face. ”Wait. Your mother... is her name Lan?”

The hall went utterly silent again. Every gaze, now filled with a new kind of curiosity, fixed on Yuxin.

.

.

.

To be continued.