199: Chapter 198: Nervous as Home Approaches 199: Chapter 198: Nervous as Home Approaches Turning his horse around, he departed, behind him Lan Ting persisted relentlessly,
“You brought eight Treasure Gourds?
Why did you leave only one for Fourth Uncle?
And it’s even unusable now?
Hou Niao slowly turned his head back, “In my actions, Hou Niao, I need not explain to anyone; having known each other for a time, you should understand the attitude of a Quanzhen Sword Cultivator toward material resources; if I wanted to disadvantage your Wen Family’s resources, would I resort to such a foolish method?”
He slowly rode away, never looking back; behind him Lan Ting still wanted to say more, but was stopped by Lan Re,
“Little sister, stop talking.
You can doubt anything, but not this!
Our father is straightforward, never caring much about resources, always taking care of the two of us with anything good he has.
Where would he have any extra wealth to store elsewhere?
The rumors were never credible, most likely spread by Brother Hou himself, just to make those lazy good-for-nothings kill each other.
Besides eight Treasure Gourds, I reckon not even one Treasure Gourd could be filled!”
Lan Ting remained silent, tears streaming down her face, “I am just saddened by the tragic deaths of those people, utterly worthless.
And this person, he truly has no compassion at all, not a single word of comfort, as if we two are already dead…”
Lan Re gave a helpless bitter smile, “We are as good as dead!
Returning after two months, achieving nothing, neither able to help the family rise nor able to extricate them from peril… Let’s go, let’s go back.
It’s time we did something.”
The two women rode back, their time was running out, but there was much to be done.
All the way, Lan Ting kept questioning herself, “Is this what a member of the Demon Sect does?
Was what he did right?
There were no answers, only time would tell.
… Hou Niao continued his journey home, also somewhat melancholic; not because of these two women, whose feelings he understood well—if it were him, he would have already slashed them with his sword rather than waste words.
His melancholy was because of that old fellow, Yu Zhengxing!
His principled life rule had always been to neither listen to nor look at impropriety, especially others’ transferred possessions; even without prohibitions, one should not count them meticulously, embodying the modest desires characteristic of a Sword Cultivator in matters of resources, further solidifying his self-discipline.
The so-called vast wealth from Yu Zhengxing, he had never opened it until he came to Sanjiang City, found A’gua, stayed at an inn, readying himself to lavish resources the next day to win everyone’s admiration, at least he needed to know how many Spirit Stones he was about to scatter, right?
The moment he opened the Treasure Gourd, he was utterly discouraged from his original plan, which led to his deliberate manipulation leading to the Wen Family’s internal strife and ultimate ruin.
Aligned neatly inside the Treasure Gourd were five hundred Spirit Stones, all Low Grade; was this the huge wealth the old man spoke of?
He knew full well this was no joke, Yu Zhengxing honestly believed that five hundred Spirit Stones was a huge fortune.
That’s how he saw it.
Such are Sword Cultivators!
Stingy to the extreme, as their Realms rise higher, this fault grows more severe; they are generous, often imparting everything they have, but the problem is, their ‘everything,’ well, it’s complicated.
Five hundred Low-Grade Spirit Stones, for a Cultivator of his Realm, doesn’t even count as a substantial amount, let alone for a family, particularly one with thirteen branches—could each lineage possibly get forty stones?
No, he’d have to pay out of pocket for dividing forty stones!
If divided per person, would it mean one Spirit Stone per head?
He truly couldn’t afford such humiliation!
Left with no choice, he had to take an unorthodox path, driven to the devil!
So it wasn’t that he had planned to act this way from the beginning—there was no connection between the Wen Family and him through even half a Spirit Stone.
Was it worth his utmost dedication and effort, enduring troubles and reaping no gratitude, only to be unfairly scorned?
But he had no choice!
Yu Zhengxing, with his prestigious status within the Quanzhen Sect, had gifted only five hundred Spirit Stones for the distant tribute to an old friend!
If only he had been a bit more cautious and scrutinizing while accepting the task, he would never have accepted such a deceitful assignment—it was not a consolation but rather a way of begging.
At the ancestral hall of the Wen Family, he revealed the contents of the Treasure Gourd, not just Yu Zhengxing’s five hundred Spirit Stones but also his entire savings, which only amounted to that because he pretended to pour out just a part.
There were more dark treasures inside, but in reality, what remained were only rocks, and pouring any more would reveal the trick.
The reason he instructed the Wen Family, especially Uncle Wen and his kin, not to open the Treasure Gourd until they had achieved some success in cultivation was the same;
Once they reached that Realm, they would be able to see beyond appearances and understand the essence, they would no longer care about the mere amount of Spirit Stones but rather value the deeper implications, such as the power of the name, “Yu Zhengxing of the Quanzhen Sect,” which held more significance than mere resources.
The seemingly complete demeanor of Demon Sect disciples in Lan Re and her sister was also forced upon them; of course, switching to another Daoist lineage might not have resulted in such extremes, so it wasn’t really a false accusation against them.
…Wei Bridge, a major bridge located south of Fufeng City that spans the Wei River, was an essential passage for the people of Fufeng when leaving the city to head south.
It was also where Hou Niao frequently passed by while handling cases out of the city.
To the south of the bridge was a tavern known for its aged liquor, and it also served famous sauce duck heads, five-spice tofu…
Spring had been here for only seven days, yet it had been three years since he had left home.
As people return like the falling geese, thoughts blossom in front of flowers.
Hou Niao stopped just a short distance from Fufeng City, seemingly led by fate, and chose an outdoor seat using the same old rules — a pot of wine, four duck heads, a plate of tofu, and a plate of sauce beef sent by the limping tavern owner.
“Criminal Investigation, it’s been a while since you last visited.”
Hou Niao smiled, these were the most genuine emotions, always unchangeable, “I went out to handle some matters and occasionally come back to check in.
Is your family well?”
The limping owner grinned honestly, “Good, good, thanks to your blessings, Criminal Investigation, all is well.”
He didn’t ask further.
Common folk have their own wisdom.
Once Hou Niao had stood up for old Meng, offending Shangguan and was taken away, it was a big event that everyone in Fufeng City knew about; now that he was back, they dared not cause any trouble for him again.
It was an unspoken agreement, whether Hou Niao was now a criminal, a notorious outlaw, or had transformed into an important figure; in these straightforward people’s eyes, he would always be that Criminal Investigation, stern and fearless in the face of power.
So, greeting him while pretending to be unaware was all they could do.
Hou Niao could feel the profound affection hidden in this plainness, even though he was no longer a criminal, and there was no need for explanations which wouldn’t even suffice.
Several riders thundered across the Wei Bridge, young men with swords on their backs and whips in their hands, full of youthful arrogance yet oblivious to others; yet their horse riding was excellent, making agile leaps without colliding with the pedestrians.
The limping owner cursed with a laugh, “Is those boys heading out of the city to hunt again?
These little rascals, always wielding their spears and sticks, never doing anything serious!”
Those boys were just a group of youngsters from the back alleys who Hou Niao had left behind.
Now, they had begun to develop a bit of a heroic air; those lads had also been frequently disciplined by him, they were not bad kids, just boisterous at this age.
Hou Niao had even once gifted one of them a precious sword.
“Really, these days these young ones haven’t caused any trouble, have they?”
The limping owner laughed heartily, “No, no, they’ve grown up now and all they think about is how to venture out, Fufeng’s scenery and characters no longer interest them.”
Hou Niao chuckled; such young men were filled with countless fantasies, and the sword carried on the back of that boy, wasn’t it precisely the one he had once given him?
…Selling wine by Wei Bridge, Fufeng’s young heroes.
Each meeting brings gifts, a precious sword and a golden saddle.