Chapter Two: Every Calm Morning Hides a Torrent Underneath

Gesheng walked home along the familiar path as he always did. It was late autumn, the wheat harvest had just concluded, and morning dew was just beginning to condense. Golden wheat stubble stretched out in patch after patch, proudly and rebelliously piercing the distant sky like countless sharp swords cleaved off at the waist.

Xiaojiu’s ice house was not far from the Fengmian Villa; it was only a matter of a few moments on foot. The white pagoda to the west still stood clearly in the distance, making it impossible to mistake the direction.

Yet when Gesheng reached the foot of the small hill, he noticed a distinct difference.

There was a carriage at the foot of the hill.

It was a carriage, specifically the Ge family carriage.

Of course, the carriage belonging to Gesheng's own household could also be considered a Ge family carriage, but they only had one, and that single carriage had been taken away by his mother who was currently away, making it impossible for it to return in the short term.

Could someone from the Ge family have arrived?

Gesheng wondered to himself.

The Ge family in question was the Lanyin Ge family, a prominent and illustrious clan that had flourished on this land for forty-seven generations across twelve hundred years. As a former direct-line heir, although Gesheng had never truly set foot in Lanyin City since his birth, his mother would still send him back every four years to complete the ceremony for the Lanyin ancestral worship. Therefore, he could not be said to be entirely ignorant of them.

Even so, the only person from the family whom Gesheng knew and remembered was Cousin Ge Lian, who frequently bought candied sweets for him.

Ge Lian, the current direct-line heir of the Ge family—even someone as slow-witted about prowess as Gesheng knew that he was immensely, unimaginably powerful.

Ranked first in the Lanyin Academy, Ge Lian had taken the entrance examination for the Lanyin-Ye Academy at the age of fourteen the year before last. Among the nineteen thousand examinees across the entire empire, he ultimately ranked three hundred and seventy-first, falling just a single step short of entering that sacred ground held in the hearts of all Lanyin people.

Yet he was only fourteen at the time.

However, such a formidable Cousin Ge Lian was not an intimidating person to him; he never treated his cousin—whom he only saw once every four years—as a burden. Every time they met, Ge Lian would buy him the finest delicacies in the city, though he himself never tasted a single bite.

In his mother’s words, anyone would believe that child was already twenty.

As Gesheng pondered this, his feet took the final step of the stone staircase leading up the mountain, and the gates of the villa appeared before him.

"Young Master?" Lihua, the maidservant waiting by the entrance clad in a pear-white servant's uniform, cried out in surprise upon seeing him. She hurriedly pulled him over to her side and whispered urgently, "Someone from the Ge family has come..."

"I can see that," Gesheng replied, bewildered. Wasn't that obvious?

Lihua shook her head vigorously, speaking in an extremely hushed tone right beside Gesheng's ear, "This time, this time it's different. Young Master, don't go in. Stall them, wait until Madam returns."

Before Gesheng could fully grasp Lihua's meaning, she forcefully pulled him toward the side door, as if even being seen entering through the main gate boded ill.

Just then, Gesheng heard an aged voice ring out from within the doorway, "The Young Master has returned? That is truly wonderful."

Gesheng saw Lihua’s face turn instantly pale. She forced her head around toward the interior and said stiffly, "It's nothing, it's just Lian'er from down the estate who came looking for me, I'm sending her off right now."

Gesheng was just wondering how that person knew he had arrived when they hadn't even laid eyes on him, and why such a bizarre thing would happen, when he heard a gentle and benevolent voice approaching from right before him.

"A lowly maid is just a lowly maid. Why is it that you love to lie so much?"

Gesheng looked ahead. Without him noticing when, an elderly man in a dark cyan robe and black hat had appeared, possessing kindly brows and amiable features.

Lihua’s face turned even paler. She raised her arms to pull Gesheng behind her and trembled as she stammered, "It’s Lihua’s fault, it’s Lihua’s fault. Lihua will slap her own face, Lihua will slap her own face."

With those words, Lihua used her left hand to strike her own face hard. She put genuine force into it, producing crisp slaps; with every blow, a swollen red mark blossomed across her porcelain-white cheek. Yet her right hand clung desperately to the back of Gesheng's clothes, preventing him from taking a single step forward.

Gesheng’s eyes grew somewhat red. Lihua was a personal maid who had followed his mother since childhood, and his mother treated her like a real sister. Forget a beating like this, normally even a harsh word was rarely uttered. Disregarding Lihua's obstruction, he whirled around, wrenched Lihua's grip off him, bent down, and swept around to stand directly in front of Lihua, catching her left hand with his own.

"I won't allow you to hit yourself!"

His movements were as smooth as flowing water—a spin, a bend, a turn—instantly swapping positions with Lihua and causing the elderly man opposite them to inwardly utter a sigh of admiration. Such agility was something he himself probably couldn't have managed at that age.

Yet not a trace of such appreciation for talent could be seen on the old man's face. Ignoring Gesheng, he looked instead at Lihua, "Indeed. If one could just casually lie by slapping their own face, wouldn't the whole world descend into chaos?"

"I'll give you two choices," the old man said mildly. "First, cut off your own tongue yourself, so you won't spout nonsense in the future."

Lihua bit down hard on her lower lip, wanting to argue but forcing herself to hold back. With a strained voice, she asked, "And the second?"

"The second, well," the old man smiled gently, "I'll grant you a foot of white silk. Find some secluded room and make use of it; we will take care of your funeral arrangements. Dead people don't spout nonsense, after all."

Veins bulged in Gesheng's eyes, threatening to split them. He gave a strong tug to Lihua, who seemed inclined to accept her fate, and stood squarely in front of the old man, saying coldly, "This is Fengmian Villa. Our servants are hardly yours to dispose of, are they?"

"Yours?" The old man echoed the word, then, as if hearing the funniest joke in the world, he burst into hearty laughter. "Eleven years ago, that shameless woman An Ning carved this estate away from the Ge family. And now, after a mere eleven years, a brat like you can boldly stand there and tell me it's yours."

"Regardless of the past," Gesheng didn't know too much about the history of Fengmian Villa, but that didn't affect his current attitude and words.

"At the very least, at this very moment, this estate still belongs to me. Therefore, not a single finger of our servants may be touched by you."

"What a formidable little master," the old man chuckled softly, then glanced lightly at Lihua. "For the sake of your master, we'll let it pass this time."

His gaze was as cold and venomous as a viper's, causing Lihua to shrink back involuntarily upon contact.

"The real master has arrived; you have no way to stall any longer now, do you?" The old man chuckled as he turned around and walked toward the inner doors. "Follow along, provided you don't stray more than a yard behind me."

"And if I do?" Gesheng now loathed this unfamiliar old man to the extreme. Though he obediently followed right behind him, he still couldn't help asking.

"Then by the time night falls, you will find that not even a single living cat can be found in this Fengmian Villa."

The old man's voice was affectionate and tender.

A white cat crouching atop the courtyard wall tilted its head and let out a soft meow.

......
......

When Gesheng stepped into the central reception hall of the villa, he could hardly believe his eyes.

Or rather, he simply could not recognize this as the place he had lived in for over ten years.

The cyan pear-wood floor was littered with fragments of porcelain and splinters of wood. Priceless official-kiln porcelain had been shoved off display shelves in whole rows, and family heirloom furniture of invaluable chicken-wing wood had been hacked and smashed to pieces with sharp blades and heavy hammers.

This was not robbery; this was blatant destruction.

Or rather, a demonstration of power.

Whatever you regard as precious treasures are utterly worthless in my eyes.

In the very center of the reception hall, someone sat upon the sole intact huanghuali armchair, facing the sole undamaged chicken-wing wood long table.

"You managed to make it back in time after all, Cousin Gesheng."

That person spoke gently, courteous and refined as polished jade.

"If you had been even an hour later, this person's very last hand wouldn't have been saved."

With those words, he casually tossed the blood-soaked figure beside his right hand onto the floor near Gesheng, treating him like a discarded sack of grain.

For a moment, Gesheng failed to recognize who it was, because the man was covered entirely in filth and blood, both legs and his right arm bent at bizarre angles—clearly snapped by someone with brute force. Lihua, trailing behind Gesheng, covered her mouth and began to sob softly at the sight of this bloody figure.

"Young Master..." The man recognized the youth beside him and let out a faint sigh, his voice full of bitter sorrow. "Why did you have to come back? If you had just stalled until Madam returned, none of this would have happened."

Hearing the voice, Gesheng was struck dumb with shock.

He knelt down in disbelief, using the lapel of his robe to wipe the blood from the man's face, and finally recognized who he was.

His name was Wu Xing, a long-term farmhand who usually collected rent, ran errands, kept watch, and patrolled the grounds. He was an old retainer who had followed his mother for as long as he could remember.

Gesheng stared fixedly at the person sitting in the chair, his gaze burning hot enough to ignite a fire.

"What do you think you're doing! Ge Lian!"

"Such poor manners, and I even called you cousin," Ge Lian said, sitting there with his head tilted and a smile, before gently flicking his sleeve. A streak of flowing light shot outward.

Gesheng had already been watching his movements closely. Seeing him make a move, he instantly twisted his waist and bent backward into a bridge posture, dodging Ge Lian's attack with agile grace, then glared at him furiously. "What on earth are you trying to do?"

Ge Lian was slightly surprised that Gesheng had evaded his strike, but immediately smiled as he slid a piece of paper across the table toward Gesheng from the other side.

"That old fellow refused to sign a single character no matter what, claiming he lacked the qualification. Even after I broke both his legs and one arm, there was nothing to be done."

"I hope Cousin Gesheng will be more obedient, and not give your cousin cause to go to such lengths."

Gesheng took the paper, and saw the very first line written upon it:

*Fengmian Villa Redemption and Purchase Agreement.*