Chapter 41: Within the Cycle of Reincarnation, Part 1

Granduncle Jiang saw that both of his beloved women were weeping miserably. The hesitation on his face vanished, replaced by firm resolve. The two women, noticing this shift in his demeanor, lowered their heads, unable to hide their delighted smiles.

That evening, Granduncle Jiang penned a long letter and immediately had his trusted servant deliver it to the Qin family.

The next day, while he was out inspecting his shops, his young wife and concubine found a quiet side room in which to meet.

The young wife spoke first, “Bihuan, do you think the master will send the eldest young master away? That little brat is sharp-eyed. Last time, we were nearly discovered by him. Now the family says he’s old enough that he can’t be left alone at home—he’s to come live here with us! What are we to do then? I can't bear to spend even a day apart from you.”

Bihuan pulled the young wife close, her voice low and magnetic, utterly unlike her coquettish tone from the night before. “My sweet little darling! That fool from the Jiang family—don’t you know by now? He’s raised our child for so long without ever suspecting a thing. He’s a grown man, married before, yet he still doesn’t know who he shares his bed with each night?

We barely had to say a word to him last night, and he rushed off to write a letter, sending his only son to the Qin family. Tell me, how should I thank him for that? Perhaps I should be extra diligent and help him tend to his wife… mmm…”

“Oh, stop it, not in broad daylight…”

…

Granduncle Jiang strolled through his thriving shops, beaming with delight, when suddenly he sneezed several times in succession. A servant hurried forward, ready to drape a cloak over his shoulders, but Jiang waved him away with a grin. “My wife must be thinking of me. After all, I did something yesterday that would certainly please her. Go to Lotus Pavilion for me and order the most fashionable set of jewelry for her, and let’s close up shop early today!” Saying this, he tossed the servant a small embroidered pouch.

The servant accepted the reward with joy. “Thank you, master! You can count on me—I’ll make sure to get the finest, most charming jewelry from Lotus Pavilion to please the madam.”

Granduncle Jiang nodded contentedly and turned into another shop. The Jiang family owned quite a few establishments in this area, and by the time he finished making his rounds, half the day had slipped by.

When he returned home, he found his tender wife and lovely concubine patiently teaching their young son to play chess, while their soft-spoken daughter sat nearby, watching with rapt attention. The sight filled Granduncle Jiang’s heart with warmth and solidified his decision to send away the son with whom he shared little affection.

Far away in Swordmaster City, the Qin family was receiving a messenger from the Jiangs. Old Master Qin, now at the venerable age of 205, had reached the pinnacle of Bone Tempering cultivation—just one step more and he would enter the Soul Refining stage, granting him an eight-hundred-year lifespan.

Usually, Old Master Qin was mild-tempered and kind to all. But today, as he read the letter in his hand, his brows knit together in displeasure.

The letter’s tone was pleasant enough, agreeing to let Yun Niang’s son come to the Qin family to honor his mother’s memory, even allowing Jiang Chengming to take the Qin surname and carry on Yun Niang’s lineage. But what nonsense! When Yun Niang died, the child was only a year or two old. The Qin family had wanted to take him in, but the Jiangs refused outright, swearing oaths to treat the boy well.

The real reason was Yun Niang’s rare constitution—she had a single lightning spiritual root and a pure yang body, a combination that was extraordinary in a man, but in a woman, it was imbalanced and prevented cultivation. Yet, if any part of her constitution were inherited by a male child, he could become a prodigy.

Given the uncertainty, the Jiangs had refused to let the boy go, guarding him jealously lest the Qins steal him away.

When the boy turned five and it became clear he did not inherit the pure yang body, the Jiangs relaxed their vigilance. However, Swordmaster City was far from Eastern Zhou, and travel was difficult, so the Qins could only ask old friends to keep an eye on him.

Now that it was certain the boy had a mixed spiritual root, the Jiangs wasted no time in pushing him out. How opportunistic! According to word from old friends, after the boy turned five, only a young servant—barely older than himself—looked after him. When that servant was recruited by Xun Yin Sect, the Jiangs simply abandoned the child, leaving him to fend for himself. What a bunch of nouveau riche scoundrels, lacking even the most basic decency!

With his great-grandson not yet in his care, Old Master Qin knew it was not yet time for open confrontation. Once he untangled these relationships in his mind, his expression grew gentle again.

He instructed, “Rongjing, Rongmiao, take a few men and accompany this messenger to the Jiang family. Bring our young master home. If the Jiangs renege on their promise, demand the proper treatment they once swore to provide. If not, have them strike his name from their genealogy. We will not raise a child for the Jiangs, nor will we allow a child with Qin blood to be mistreated elsewhere. Do you understand?”

Rongjing and Rongmiao answered in unison, “Yes, Grandfather. We will not fail you!”

Old Master Qin finally smiled, handing each of them a storage pouch. “Be careful on the road. If anything unexpected happens, you may ask your Uncle Cheng’s family for assistance—someone will repay the favor. Now go! The sooner, the better.” With a wave, he dismissed the Jiangs’ messenger without a second glance, and strode away at his leisure.

Meanwhile, Jiang Chengming had begun to understand this world and was preparing to practice the techniques he had once mastered. He had no idea that people were now racing tirelessly to reach him.

Recently, the Jiangs had grown even more neglectful of him. Meals were sent irregularly; often, cold breakfast would arrive near midday, and sometimes lunch would not be delivered at all, leaving him hungry for half a day.

Chengming would become so absorbed in reading that he lost track of time and only gradually noticed the increasing neglect. When he was left without food for an entire day, anger welled within him. After all, his body was still of the Jiang bloodline, and he was but a helpless child. However poor his talents might be, he still possessed a spiritual root. The main branch could look down from their privileged heights, but the third branch had two sons with no spiritual root at all, and yet they lived in comfort. Why, then, was he denied even a meal simply for having a lesser root? Even servants were not treated so poorly!

It had been years since Chengming had known true hunger, but now he nearly began to hallucinate from starvation. Luckily, though his quarters were remote, they were not far from the kitchen. With trembling, weakened legs, he braced himself against the wall and made his way there.

The kitchen was deserted, save for two servants tidying up—the rest had gone to rest. Without hesitation, Chengming lifted the lids off two pots: one contained several covered plates of pastries, the other a large bowl of meat and vegetables. He helped himself, eating heartily. The two servants stared in shock, afraid to stop him. Only after he had devoured all the pastries and the entire bowl of meat did they run, wailing, to report to the kitchen stewardess—those dishes were meant for her daughter, now eaten up by the second branch’s young master.