Initially, within the Dao Academy of Maple Forest City, Zhang Linchuan’s strength was undeniably preeminent among the inner court disciples. Yet, he always remained deliberately unobtrusive, a hidden dragon amidst Zhu Weiwu and Wei Yan, maintaining a façade of competence without drawing undue attention.

Similarly, in Lu Shuang County, he utilized the identity of Lei Zhanqian as a veil, with all his actions discreetly orchestrated from behind the scenes, leveraging the influence of the Zhou family of the same county.

The Zhang Linchuan of those initial days, who remained veiled and silent, suddenly erupted amidst the turmoil in Maple Forest City, striking with decisive force to slay Wei Qiji.

Upon his arrival in Linzi, he did not return to his residence immediately. He merely deposited Chu Yao at the city gates, instructing his young disciple to make her own way back and, incidentally, to inform the household to prepare some gold and silk.

He then proceeded directly to the Bo Wang Marquis Mansion.

His impression of the old marquis was not particularly deep. Owing to his connection with Chong Xuan Sheng, he had harbored some reservations regarding the venerable elder, feeling that the old man had not been equitable in his treatment, allowing Chong Xuan Pang to suffer excessive hardship from a young age.

Yet, for reasons unknown, throughout his journey back to Linzi this time, a particular scene kept replaying in his mind.

That day, sensing the charged atmosphere, he had proactively excused Physician Ye Henshui. The vast Bo Wang Marquis Mansion, a labyrinth of winding paths leading to secluded courtyards. It was both familiar and yet different from his first entry into the estate. He had heard the old man’s cry, a shout of Chong Xuan Sheng’s name, laced with both vulnerability and a defiant strength… “I am going to die!”

He knew.

Everyone knew that Chong Xuan Yunbo’s time was short.

The entirety of Linzi was well aware that Chong Xuan Yunbo would not only fail to reach the age of one hundred and twenty, but that he would not live past the fifty-seventh year of Yuan Feng. To survive the horrific injuries sustained on the battlefield that year was, in itself, a miracle.

And having had his hope of reaching the Shenlin realm shattered, he had, with merely the cultivation of the Outer Building realm, his weary old body, and a single hand, propped up the Chong Xuan clan, navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom and the blood-soaked fields of battle, watching it rise and fall, fall and rise again.

He had lived, and on the battlefield, he had buried his third son, Chong Xuan Mingshan.

He had lived, and after the contention of Qi and Xia, when the Great Qi Empire stood at its zenith, he had laid to rest his most cherished son, Chong Xuan Mingtu.

He had lived, watching his grandson, who cast a shadow over Linzi, defy his will.

He had lived, seeing his direct grandson, upon whom he had pinned the family’s future, reject his meticulously crafted arrangements.

To lose sons in old age is the most profound sorrow of a lifetime. And he had successively lost two.

When a person stands on the brink of death, their greatest fear is seeing a lifetime’s effort turn to dust. And he had, indeed, experienced the family’s vicissitudes multiple times.

Such an old man, how could one describe him? “Everyone suffers.”

In the courtyard where Old Master Chong Xuan often resided, Jiang Wang saw Chong Xuan Sheng.

“Everyone has their pain.” This was the first sentence Chong Xuan Sheng uttered. This man, who had always been reluctant to reveal his emotions.

Most people only ever saw his perpetually smiling, squinting eyes. As if he held no anger towards anyone, indifferent to everything.

At this moment, he was still a corpulent mass of flesh slumped in a lounge chair, two bean-like eyes embedded in his face.

There was not an ounce of the Marquis’s bearing to be seen.

Only the expression on his face was one Jiang Wang had never witnessed, a complex tapestry of emotions.

He listened in silence. Chong Xuan Sheng spoke slowly.

“Within this noble marquis mansion, within this top-tier aristocratic family of Great Qi, every single person carries their own pain.”

“My father has his father’s pain. His ideals, his wife and children, his friends, his subordinates, his family, his loyalty… he could not tend to any of it. He achieved fame in his youth, yet he struggled a lifetime until his death.”

This was the first time Jiang Wang had heard Chong Xuan Sheng say, “my father.”

“My elder brother has his elder brother’s pain. He is inherently self-centered, unwilling to be restrained. He demands perfection, does not allow himself any shortcomings. His goals are resolute; what he desires, he obtains. He does not wish to let go of anything, which in fact strains him immensely.”

This was also the first time Jiang Wang had heard Chong Xuan Sheng speak of Chong Xuan Zun in such a tone.

“My uncle has his uncle’s pain. The brother he most respected died, and he was powerless to prevent it. The more powerful he becomes, the more he feels that in this world, everything is fraught with difficulty. No matter how fierce and mighty he may be, he cannot venture to the origin sea to reassemble fragmented souls. Even though he is already a contemporary True Person, Chong Xuan Mingtu serves as a stark lesson from the past.”

“My fourth uncle has his fourth uncle’s pain. His third brother died on the battlefield, implicated by his second brother. But his second brother also perished protecting the family. He wishes to hate, yet knows not whom to direct his hatred towards. He still cannot accept all of this, so he remains overseas year-round, and since his father’s death, has never again set foot in Linzi.”

Chong Xuan Sheng spoke slowly: “Of course, I too have my pain. What my pains are, you have witnessed alongside me, you know.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze still fixed on the distant haze: “I know that in this world, no one lives easily, everyone carries their own pain. It is just that today, sitting here, I suddenly thought, my grandfather… he too is in great pain. Indeed, he suffers more than anyone else; he has experienced and lost more than anyone. Yet, in his entire lifetime, he never expressed it.”

“Having been crippled on the battlefield himself, he then painstakingly nurtured his sons to become talented. When the Emperor harbored suspicions, he donned his armor and returned to battle. When his son fell in battle, he only raised the banner higher. When the family’s power waned, he only straightened his back further.”

“He never showed weakness in his life, save for that one time… he told me, he was going to die.”

“But at that time, I still chose…”

“Jiang Wang, I am not saying I regret choosing Fourteen. I am merely thinking, is it possible that I could have… found a better way?”

“From my father, all the way to me. Each of us can be willful, can throw tantrums. Can express our pain. Because that old man is still alive, no matter what happens, there is someone standing behind us to support us.”

“My cultivation has already surpassed his. My uncle, my fourth uncle, my elder brother, my father, their cultivations are all above his. But the entire Chong Xuan family, it is always him, shielding us from the wind and rain.”

“Because his care for the family surpasses anyone else’s care for the family. Thus, it is always he who silently endures everything.”

Jiang Wang remembered the scene at the entrance of East Street that day. That white-haired old man, soaring through the sky with breathtaking speed, angrily rebuking Jiang Mengxiong in the street, loudly questioning the Qi Emperor. That scene, indeed, was unforgettable. Unforgettable for a lifetime.

Chong Xuan Sheng’s voice was very calm: “He has always been sitting in this place, so we actually feel that his sitting here is very proper, very ordinary. Like this chair, like this courtyard, like this sunlight.”

“Until he left.”

“Until he left, those accustomed fragments became extraordinary.”

“You look at the clouds in the sky, are they always so leisurely?”

Chong Xuan Sheng closed his eyes, as if a little sleepy, and murmured: “Originally, they were not.”

Jiang Wang listened to all of this in silence.

He knew that someone as intelligent as Chong Xuan Sheng did not require any advice, merely a trustworthy confidant in whom he could confide.

Having rushed from Old Mountain in Xia Di to the Bo Wang Marquis Mansion in Linzi, and having had to look after Chu Yao along the way, he was indeed travel-worn. But his purpose in coming was not as the Great Qi Wu An Marquis, a formidable figure of the Shenlin realm, but simply as a friend.

Chong Xuan Sheng’s closest friend in a lifetime.

He said nothing, and sat down beside Chong Xuan Sheng.

Just like that, they sat together for an afternoon and a whole night.

August was already late autumn.

When the yellow leaves fall and shatter, it always reminds people of the world’s poignant farewells.

The old master had left instructions before his death, that his funeral matters should be simplified. Thus, the funeral was not grand.

There was no sight of ten li of mourning cloth, not even a flowing water banquet was held.

Only a mourning hall was set up in the Bo Wang Marquis Mansion, where the spirit would be kept for three days for people to pay their respects. After three days, the Bo Wang Marquis heir would escort the coffin back to the Chong Xuan clan’s ancestral land in Qiu Yang County for burial.

Thereafter, it would be Chong Xuan Sheng’s enfeoffment ceremony. Although this somber affair was simple, the regulations were not.

Firstly, Ding Yuan Marquis Chong Xuan Chuliang personally stood guard in the outer courtyard, serving as the greeter. Various officials from the Political Affairs Hall and the Military Affairs Hall, all present at court, came to the mourning hall to pay their respects. Those outside the territory of Qi also sent wreaths and elegiac couplets.

Military God Jiang Mengxiong, State Chancellor Jiang Rumo, and former Chancellor Yan Ping, all came personally.

Then, through court discussion, the Purple Micro Central Heaven Tai Huang flag suspended in front of the Zi Ji Hall was lowered to half-mast. The Great Qi Empire paid its respects to the State Marquis with state rites.

Finally, on the day of the main sacrifice, the Great Qi Emperor personally attended, lighting a stick of incense for the old marquis.

Chong Xuan Yunbo had, with his lifetime, interpreted his loyalty, bravery, and responsibility.

The path he had wished to walk, the duties he should fulfill, had all been completed.

Having settled his affairs after death, he had earned the world’s renown.

For a person’s lifetime, how could one be considered to have lived without regrets?

Jiang Wang was still very young and did not know the answer.

In the mourning hall, Chong Xuan Sheng wore mourning clothes, kneeling on the left main seat.

Champion Marquis Chong Xuan Zun knelt opposite him.

The two brothers faced each person who came to pay their respects, bowing respectfully, thanking them for seeing off their grandfather.

It was difficult to imagine that the entire funeral was handled by Fourteen. Even with everything simplified, for this woman who usually did not utter a word for days on end, it was an immense challenge.

This kind of receiving and sending off affairs was something that Elder Brother Ming Guang had always been eager to undertake, not allowing anyone to steal the spotlight.

But this time, it was not possible.

His cultivation was originally not strong, and he was mentally distraught. For reasons unknown, he had made a grave error when transporting the Dao Yuan, even causing the inner mansion to almost collapse. Fortunately, he was resting in the Champion Marquis Mansion at the time and was discovered in time by Chong Xuan Zun, who helped to suppress it.

Thus, he had been confined to bed for several days.

Jiang Wang saw him guarding the spirit last night and almost didn’t recognize him. He was utterly haggard, kneeling there in silence, simply shedding tears continuously.

Later, Chong Xuan Zun forcibly made him faint and sent him back to rest.

Jiang Wang helped out inside and out, but there was actually nothing he needed to do. He merely helped greet the guests who came to pay their respects in the inner courtyard.

As for Chong Xuan Sheng’s fourth uncle, Chong Xuan Minghe, he did not return to Linzi, only offering a sacrifice remotely from Wu Dong Island.

“Qing Yang!”

With an intimate call, it was the heir to the Shuo Fang Viscount, Bao Zhongqing, bringing a graceful woman with him, stepping into the inner courtyard.

Some people’s calls are intimate, while others’ calls only cause annoyance.

Bao Zhongqing was clearly the latter.

But Jiang Wang did not show any outward displeasure, merely extending a hand to guide the way: “Please come inside to pay your respects.”

At this moment, Bao Zhongqing’s expression was very solemn. But the self-satisfied air between his eyebrows still revealed that he had been living very happily during this period. The woman beside him was likely his wife, whom he had married a few months prior, the daughter of the Governor of Cang Shu County, Miao Yuzhi. She was also graceful and poised, offering Jiang Wang a courtesy and addressing him as “Wu An Marquis.”

The Bao clan and many disciples of Song Yao had already established cooperation in many aspects, and all directions were developing well.

Bao Zhongqing patted Jiang Wang’s arm and said: “My condolences.”

He then turned to Miao Yuzhi with a hint of apology: “You are with child, it is inconvenient for you to go inside. Just wait for me outside.”

Miao Yuzhi was very understanding: “Husband, go on.” Bao Zhongqing again asked Jiang Wang to look after her a little, and then went to the mourning hall himself.

These two appeared affectionate, but what did their affection have to do with others?

Frankly speaking, Jiang Wang did not know the intention of his visit. The Shuo Fang Viscount had already come in person to pay his respects. Furthermore, if your wife was with child and it was inconvenient for her to see mourning, then why bring her along?

Jiang Wang beckoned to have a soft chair brought over and invited Miao Yuzhi to sit and wait.

Miao Yuzhi thanked him very politely and then sat down on the soft chair. Suddenly, she smiled: “I remember that originally, Miss Wen organized several poetry gatherings and said that Wu An Marquis would attend. I also participated, yet I did not see you.”

“Oh.” Jiang Wang reacted, saying with self-deprecation: “Where do I understand anything about poetry? Miss Wen invited me the first time, and I went shamelessly. The entire event felt like a dream. Several times after that, I did not have the face to participate again.”

Miao Yuzhi covered her mouth and laughed: “They all say you have quick thoughts and a great understanding of poetic emotion.”

Recalling the poetry gatherings he had attended initially, Jiang remembered that besides “good,” “very good,” and “not bad,” he had said nothing else.

Apparently, this was considered “quick thoughts.”

“They are kind girls. After all, the truth can hurt people.” Jiang Wang said.

“With so many kind girls, has the Marquis taken a fancy to any one of them?” Miao Yuzhi asked with a smile.

Jiang Wang shook his head: “The path of cultivation is long; for now, I have no such thoughts.”

“Indeed, a figure like the Marquis, with such lofty ambitions, naturally will not be trapped by matters of personal affection.” Miao Yuzhi said, the topic shifting: “The last time, at my and Zhongqing’s wedding, you also did not come. Thus, today is the first time I have seen our Great Qi’s hero.”

Jiang Wang explained: “At that time, I had other matters… but I did send a gift.”

Miao Yuzhi then laughed again. She seemed to enjoy laughing, and her laughter was indeed pleasant to behold, especially with the two dimples that were very charming. No wonder Bao Zhongqing now took her everywhere he went.

Jiang Wang accompanied her and exchanged a few words, then self-consciously went to welcome others.

Not long after, Bao Zhongqing finished paying his respects and returned to pick up Miao Yuzhi. After exchanging further pleasantries with Jiang Wang, they bid farewell. The couple was affectionate, walking hand in hand towards home. This pair of talented man and beautiful woman, with their complementary family powers, was indeed an enviable match.

Seeing the couple depart, Yi Huai Min, who had come to assist as part of Yi Shisi’s family, came over: “His wife is pregnant with a child, and he specifically ran over to tell you? How, do you have credit in this?”

This second son of Physician Yi Xingchen was not at all reserved.

Ever since he was once forced by a mysterious person, said to be a remnant of Ku Rong Yuan, to copy the A Han Jing, his attitude towards Jiang Wang had become very close. He often told people that he was also Fourteen’s elder brother, and Jiang Wang was also Fourteen’s elder brother. By extension, he and the Wu An Marquis were close brothers.

Yi Huai Yong happened to be walking by at this time and, upon hearing this, immediately scolded: “What nonsense! With that loose tongue of yours, sooner or later someone will tear it out!”

Yi Huai Min rolled his eyes, turned his head, yet honestly bowed: “I was momentarily careless with my words, Elder Brother’s teaching is correct. I will not speak of it again.”

After Yi Huai Yong departed with a stern expression,

He again whispered in front of Jiang Wang: “If he didn’t like to report everything to my dad, would I fear him, Elder Yi?”

March, early spring.

Sorrow. Blood-colored rain, bringing sorrow, fell upon the mortal realm.

The earth was shrouded in a haze, and there stood a ruined city, silent in the dim red blood rain, devoid of any life.

Within the city’s broken walls and ruins, all things were withered. Everywhere one looked, there were collapsed houses and greenish-black corpses, pieces of flesh, like broken autumn leaves, silently decaying.

The once bustling streets were now a scene of desolation.

The once crowded sandy roads were now devoid of any noise.

Only a mixture of flesh, dust, and paper blood mud remained, indistinguishable from each other, a shocking sight.

Not far away, a damaged carriage, deeply embedded in the mud, was full of sadness. Only an abandoned rabbit doll on the shaft hung there, swaying in the wind.

The white fur was already soaked in a wet red, filled with gloomy strangeness.

The turbid pupils seemed to retain some resentment, staring lonely at the mottled stones in front.

There, a figure lay.

It was a boy, thirteen or fourteen years old, his clothes tattered, covered in dirt, a damaged leather bag tied around his waist.

The boy narrowed his eyes, motionless. The biting cold from all sides penetrated his tattered clothes, attacking his entire body, gradually stealing his body temperature.

Even when the rain fell on his face, his eyes did not blink, his eagle-like gaze fixed coldly on the distance.

Following his gaze, at a distance of seven or eight zhang, a skinny bald vulture was gnawing on the rotten corpse of a wild dog, occasionally observing its surroundings alertly.

As if in these dangerous ruins, any slight movement would cause it to instantly take to the air.