Chapter 0018: The Young Heir of the Zhong Family (Name Change Notice)

He had saved a rather peculiar boy...

Jiang Feng was a considerate host. He gave up the treehouse to Zhong Fan and found a tree outside to sleep on, nesting himself among its branches. Lying there with his hands behind his head, he gazed at the moon and the scattered stars above, calmly sorting through the events that had just transpired.

When he first met Zhong Fan and rescued him, Jiang Feng had acted out of nothing more than a surge of youthful passion. With his temperament, he could not stand idly by and watch a child die before his eyes as long as he had the strength to intervene. Although he had questioned at the time why a child without any trace of Bright Force would appear in the territory of a level five Bright Beast, his impulse to save a life far outweighed any extraneous speculation.

Looking back now, the boy called Zhong Fan was indeed extraordinary. Aside from his refined attire, every gesture hinted at an exceptional background—his gaze, his upright posture, his manner of speaking. Jiang Feng even thought he caught glimpses of his young lady's elegance in the boy—the same measured restraint, the innate sense of propriety and composure. It wasn’t exactly the same, but the resemblance was undeniable.

Perhaps it was the boy’s unique bearing, or perhaps his mode of speech, but Jiang Feng constantly felt Zhong Fan was older than he appeared. Yet whatever the case, it was certain he hadn’t fused with a Bright Heart Seed and possessed not a trace of Bright Force in his body.

Jiang Feng exhaled toward the sky, closed his eyes, and prepared to rest.

Zhong Fan’s background was of no concern to him. What existed between them was merely a transaction lasting two and a half months. During that time, Jiang Feng would provide a safe haven for Zhong Fan, and in exchange, the boy would share all his knowledge about the Grand Examination—nothing more.

...

Zhong Fan lay awake on the grass mat inside the treehouse, staring at the pitch-black ceiling. His eyes glimmered in the darkness, as though he were deep in thought.

Suddenly, he sat up, pulled aside the fabric at his shoulder, and, by the faint light from outside, examined his skin. Smooth and unblemished—there was no sign of injury. He narrowed his eyes as scenes from before his collapse replayed in his mind, including the agony that had pierced to his very bones...

What was going on?

He turned to look outside at the man in the tree, his gaze contemplative.

The next morning, the persistent “pop, pop” sounds outside woke Zhong Fan. He sat up with a start, surprised that the night had passed and dawn had broken. He had always been a poor sleeper, and expected a restless, sleepless night on the rough grass mat. To his astonishment, he’d drifted off while thinking and slept soundly without dreams.

Stepping outside, he saw Jiang Feng practicing his punches beneath the tree. His torso was bare, sweat streaming down the grooves of his muscles, soaking the ground beneath him. Again and again, he repeated the same movements—twisting his waist, rotating his shoulders, swinging his arms, and throwing punches.

His arm lashed out like a whip, each punch slicing through the air with a crisp crack. Zhong Fan fixed his gaze on him, almost able to visualize the power erupting from shoulder and back, coursing through muscle to fist.

Though he had never trained in martial arts, Zhong Fan’s discerning eye immediately saw that even without Bright Force, Jiang Feng’s strength and speed were astonishing. No wonder, despite having unblocked only four meridians, he had dared to venture alone into the territory of a level five Bright Beast the previous day...

The presence of an observer didn’t affect Jiang Feng in the least. He finished his morning regimen as usual, and after ten thousand punches, he stood motionless, gradually regaining his breath. He glanced at the sky and said to Zhong Fan, “I’ll be heading out to hunt. You’ll stay here.”

Zhong Fan nodded. Jiang Feng reminded him, “This whole valley is a safe zone, but if you must go out, don’t wander far. Stay close by.” Zhong Fan hadn’t expected such careful instructions from someone who seemed so indifferent. Somewhat surprised, he nodded solemnly and agreed.

Jiang Feng left the valley, leaving last night’s supper for Zhong Fan.

Zhong Fan sat face-to-face with the rabbit, staring into its big red eyes for a long while before finally reaching out to stroke its fur.

He murmured, “Do you have any idea what happened? I was gravely injured, yet now every trace of it has vanished. And—amazingly, I can eat meat now…”

The rabbit’s red eyes stared back at him in silence.

Zhong Fan sighed. “I thought, perhaps this time, I could finally…”

He cut himself off mid-sentence, suddenly sitting upright, his back ramrod straight. Then, coldly, he said, “You can come out now.”

An old man swept in like the wind, dropping to his knees before Zhong Fan. “Young master, are you all right?”

Zhong Fan didn’t look at him. He simply ordered, “I’ll be staying here for a while. Don’t show yourself.”

The old man was taken aback and reflexively objected, “No! Young master, you—”

Zhong Fan’s gaze flickered over him. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. Under that gaze, the old man shivered and bowed his head in silence.

They said nothing for a long while before the old man finally spoke in a strained voice, “Young master, madam has raised the reward again. Whoever can cure your strange illness will receive one tenth of the Zhong family’s assets.”

The Zhong family’s holdings spanned the Nine Heavens Continent and even extended into the northern Xuanji Continent. One tenth of their fortune was wealth beyond imagination, far beyond mere kingdoms.

Wealth brings power. Whoever claimed such riches would instantly ascend to the highest echelons of society, standing shoulder to shoulder with the continent’s elite.

At these words, Zhong Fan was visibly moved. He lowered his gaze and said quietly, “Mother…”

The old man continued, “Young master, you are peerlessly gifted. If only this illness could be cured and you could regain control of the Zhong family’s affairs, then—”

Zhong Fan had heard these words countless times before. He raised a hand to cut him off, fell silent for a moment, and finally said, “I’m tired.”

The old man trembled. He looked at the youth, eyes moist. He had watched this child grow up, and now there were countless things he wished to say. But any words of encouragement had become pale and hollow after years of suffering.

Zhong Fan said, “Let me have these last days in peace.”

The old man’s tears finally fell. He bowed deeply and choked out, “…Yes.”

He left, his figure hunched and aged.

Zhong Fan bowed his head, gently stroking the rabbit’s fur. He murmured, “No vigorous movement, no greasy food, no exertion, the slightest injury bleeding endlessly, possibly fatally… a life like this…”

A soft sigh drifted through the little valley, fading away.

...

Mindful of the outsider in the valley, Jiang Feng returned earlier than usual that day—before noon, he appeared at the valley’s entrance. In his hand he carried a long string of golden pheasants, their tails trailing down, each blue feather marked with a black spot like an eye.

Zhong Fan was seated upright beneath a tree, and Jiang Feng’s face showed a flicker of amusement.

Seeing Zhong Fan there, Jiang Feng suddenly realized this boy would sit perfectly straight and proper even when alone, as though he were at some formal event.

Zhong Fan looked up at the string of pheasants and remarked in surprise, “Phoenix-eyed Bluefowl? Level two Bright Beasts?”

Jiang Feng nodded. “Lunch for me and Supper. I’ll roast them. Since you have no Bright Force, I’ve prepared something else for you.”

Zhong Fan was even more surprised. “You know how to cook Bright Beasts?”

Jiang Feng replied, “It’s just roasting meat—what’s there to know? It just takes a bit more time. With Supper’s help, it’s nothing.”

Zhong Fan glanced at him, then at the rabbit, puzzled but asking no further questions. He simply watched Jiang Feng’s every move, intent on learning.

Jiang Feng called out, “Don’t just stand there. Come help.”

“Help? Help with what?”

No one had ever asked this of Zhong Fan before. He was almost flustered, scrambling to his feet and hurrying over. “What should I do?”

Jiang Feng pointed. “There are some wild ginger and garlic over there. Go pick them and wash them in the stream.”

Zhong Fan hesitated. He pursed his lips and walked to where Jiang Feng had pointed, thinking for a long time before carefully picking a few leaves and returning. “Are these the ones?”

Jiang Feng glanced over, then narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

Zhong Fan’s ears turned red. “Are they not right?”

Jiang Feng said, “Why’d you bring wild grass? Weren’t you talking yesterday about all kinds of seasonings? Don’t tell me you don’t even recognize them!”

Zhong Fan’s face flushed crimson. He stammered, unable to speak for a long moment.

If the old man had seen this scene, who knows what expression he would have worn. Zhong Fan had always been frail but composed, sometimes even stern. When had he ever looked so flustered?

Finally, Zhong Fan mustered the courage to confess, “I’ve eaten them at home and read about cooking in books, but I’ve never actually done it myself.”

Read about it in books... Such simple words nevertheless struck Jiang Feng. His gaze grew distant for a moment before he stood and said, “There are times you have to do things yourself. Otherwise, when life doesn’t go your way, you won’t be caught off guard.”

He led Zhong Fan over, teaching him to recognize each plant—what could be picked, which parts to use, how to prepare them—explaining everything patiently and letting Zhong Fan try for himself.

Zhong Fan was obedient, following every instruction to the letter. He was still a bit clumsy, but it was clear he was earnest.

Suddenly, he cried out and raised his hand.

His index finger had been sliced by a blade of grass, and a bead of bright red blood welled up instantly.

At the sight of that blood, Zhong Fan’s expression turned to utter terror!