Killing His Uncle

"Twenty years ago, Grandfather took Uncle to Shaanxi and Gansu..."

"Uncle escaped back, but Grandfather..."

"The hatred of a father's murder could never be shared beneath the same sky..."

"Two years ago, for the Saintess..."

Just as expected, it was a clichéd tale of revenge: a widow whose father had died and a younger brother scared out of his wits pinned their hopes, fueled by the irreconcilable hatred of a father's murder, on the precocious Su Xingfang.

It had not quite come to sleeping on brushwood and licking gall, but the supervision of hanging beams from the ceiling and stabbing his thighs with an awl had not been watered down in the slightest.

And Su Xingfang had indeed lived up to their expectations. Five years earlier, he had passed the metropolitan examination and smoothly filled a vacancy to remain in the capital as an official.

Later, thanks to his outstanding performance, he had been promoted to Daxing County Magistrate.

Yet Su Xingfang had not felt the slightest joy over this promotion.

When he had still held an idle post, Aunt Li, who oversaw the capital's intelligence network, had already nurtured him as a promising prospect, giving him money when he needed money and connections when he needed connections.

Now that he held real power, would he not have to repay her double?

Sure enough, about a year later, Aunt Li suddenly came to his door and told him that the Saintess had reincarnated ahead of schedule. The main altar was preparing to send an important figure to investigate and make contact.

Su Xingfang's mother and the Cao siblings were so excited that they wept with joy, repeatedly chanting, "The Unborn Venerable Mother, the homeland of true emptiness," as if finding the Saintess would be enough to bring Great Zhou to