Chapter Eight: Bizarre, truly bizarre!

The Tianxiang Tower, mentioned by Jia Huizu, was one of the most famous brothels in the capital of the Qi State.

It seemed that this fellow still did not suspect that his sudden fainting spell had been orchestrated by Xie Ning. He simply assumed that his revelry at the Tianxiang Tower last night, coupled with playing too recklessly with a courtesan named Cuihua, had drained his physical strength and left him with a touch of kidney deficiency, resulting in his dizzy spell.

Soon after, Dr. Lin from the Hui Chun Clinic was chased away by an agitated and manic-looking Jia Huizu.

The fellow, acting as if he had accomplished something monumental, boasted proudly to his father, Jia Yibo, who stood outside the gate frowning at him: "Father, this Dr. Lin is clearly a senile fraud. There is no need to pay any mind to people like him in the future. My health is perfectly fine... Ouch!"

Having become too carried away with his own arrogance, he had failed to notice the stone lion placed before the gate of the Marquis's estate and slammed his head directly into its front right claw.

"Splat!"

The sharp tip of the stone lion's claw instantly gouged a thumb-sized hole in his head, and blood began to pour out like a fountain.

"Ah!"

Jia Huizu let out a heart-wrenching scream, clutching his forehead with his hands, and wailed in sheer terror: "Father, I am dying, Father! I’ve lost so much blood from my forehead, I surely won’t survive this!"

Jia Yibo was also rattled by the scene and hurriedly shouted at the servants guarding the gate: "Quick! Quickly, go and fetch that Dr. Lin back..."

In an instant, the area in front of the Dingyuan Marquis's estate descended into total chaos.

Only Xie Ning, hiding behind a water pavilion not far away, watched the scene with a strange expression.

The Innate Bagua Diagram was truly a treasure. The bit of bad luck absorbed from Li Qingning was merely a drop in the bucket, yet when transferred to Jia Huizu—a hollow shell of a man who possessed no fortune to begin with—it proved to be devastatingly powerful.

First, he became drunk on his own arrogance and spouted wild nonsense, and then, joy turned into tragedy as he bashed his head against a stone lion.

This karmic retribution had arrived both swiftly and precisely.

Watching Jia Yibo’s face, which shifted from ash-gray to deathly pale, and then into a twisted mask of fury, a sense of indescribable satisfaction welled up in Xie Ning’s heart.

The humiliation and suffering his predecessor had endured for fifteen years seemed to find a small measure of release in this moment.

This was only the beginning. The debts owed by Jia Yibo and his precious children would be collected one by one, with interest.

At that moment, the dismissed Dr. Lin returned, only to be confronted by the bloody scene. His legs trembled so violently that he could barely hold his medicine chest steady.

He had practiced medicine for half a lifetime, treating everything from bruises and fractures to mysterious ailments, yet he had never seen such a bizarre injury.

A perfectly healthy man, walking on flat ground, had managed to crash headlong into a stone lion and leave himself a bloody mess.

What kind of wretched luck must a person have to commit such an outrageous act?

Jia Yibo had completely lost his composure. Pointing at his son, who was rolling on the ground, he roared at Dr. Lin: "Dr. Lin, what are you standing there for? Quickly, save my son! No matter the cost, no matter how expensive the medicine, as long as his life is saved, I will spare no expense!"

The servants of the estate were also in a frenzy. Some went to fetch water, others scrambled for cloth, and one particularly "clever" servant stripped off his own outer garment, intending to press it against Jia Huizu's head.

However, his foot slipped on a pool of blood, and he fell flat on his face, accidentally knocking over the servant carrying the water basin.

A basin of clear water splashed entirely over Jia Huizu’s wound.

"Ah!"

It was more stinging than salt water. Jia Huizu’s scream spiked an octave higher, so sharp it threatened to pierce one's eardrums.

He twitched in agony, rolled his eyes back, and fainted dead away.

"Huizu! Huizu!"

Seeing this, Jia Yibo felt his heart turn to ice. He roared at the clumsy servants: "Useless! A bunch of useless trash! Get out of my sight!"

He stepped forward personally and carefully lifted his son.

Dr. Lin finally regained his senses and hurriedly opened his kit to retrieve styptic powder and bandages, trembling as he began to treat the wound.

Dr. Lin was, after all, an experienced physician. After a flurry of frantic activity, he finally managed to staunch the bleeding on Jia Huizu’s head.

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and bowed to Jia Yibo: "Marquis, the eldest young master’s life is temporarily out of danger. However, the wound is deep and has reached the vital points of the skull; I fear... I fear there may be lasting complications."

"Complications? What complications?"

Jia Yibo’s heart sank sharply.

Dr. Lin looked troubled, stammering: "At best, chronic headaches and dizziness, or memory loss; at worst... he may suffer permanent mental impairment, behaving like a three-year-old child..."

"To put it bluntly, he may become a fool."

Jia Yibo felt as if he had been struck by lightning, his entire body swaying.

His most valued son, the future heir to the Marquis title, was to become a fool?

Unable to accept this reality, he whipped his head around, his sinister eyes locking onto Xie Ning, who was just preparing to leave.

He clearly remembered that not long ago, Xie Ning had said: "I see your complexion is pale, your forehead is dark, and you are plagued by misfortune; I fear a bloody disaster is coming your way..."

A bloody disaster!

Every word still echoed in his ears.

At the time, he had dismissed it as the ramblings of a rebellious son, but now, it was clearly a curse.

"Xie Ning!"

Jia Yibo’s voice sounded as if it were being squeezed through his teeth, filled with malice and rage.

"Stop right there!"

Xie Ning paused, turning slowly with an expression of perfectly measured innocence and confusion: "You called for me, Marquis? What are your instructions?"

Jia Yibo, cradling his unconscious son, walked toward Xie Ning, each step sounding like it was treading on thin ice, accompanied by a creaking noise.

The servants behind him, sensing the overwhelming fury radiating from him, were too terrified to even breathe.

"What did you do to Huizu?"

Jia Yibo’s gaze looked as if he wanted to tear Xie Ning to pieces.

"It was you. It must have been you. You rebellious brat, what sort of black magic did you use?"

"Black magic?"

Xie Ning acted as if he had heard the greatest joke in the world and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Marquis, we are both educated men. How can you believe in such superstitious nonsense? I merely noticed his forehead looked dark and made a passing remark. Who could have guessed he would be so careless as to walk straight into a stone lion? Or are you suggesting I pushed him into it?"

He spread his hands, looking completely composed: "If the Marquis doesn't believe me, you are welcome to ask everyone present. Did anyone see me get within half a step of him?"

The servants, hearing this, lowered their heads, afraid to make a sound.

They truly had not seen Xie Ning do anything; he hadn't even come close. Jia Huizu had done it entirely to himself.

Jia Yibo was left speechless, choked by his own frustration.

Indeed, Xie Ning hadn't touched him; he had been standing far away.

But the timing was too perfect—so perfect that it made his blood run cold.

It felt as though an invisible hand were manipulating everything from the shadows, yet he couldn't even catch a glimpse of his opponent.

This sense of powerlessness made him feel even more enraged and humiliated than if he had been struck by a physical blow.