Gifts

Meng Zhao was somewhat angered as well, but his self-restraint was sufficient and his scheming mind ran deep, so he revealed nothing.

Sharp and vigilant, Meng Zhao had also noticed something highly unusual: Meng Qinghuai's hostility was far too obvious.

Although Meng Zhao's earlier pleasantries had contained a measure of flattery.

There was no denying that Meng Qinghuai was an extraordinary man. He had risen from the collateral branches and distant relatives before finally earning the Meng Family's recognition.

To say that he could not control his emotions or conceal his hostility would be to underestimate him far too greatly.

Since Meng Qinghuai was as close to Meng Wen as brothers, and clearly knew that Meng Wen intended to win Meng Zhao over, was it not strange that he would behave with such open hostility and make enemies for Meng Wen?

Suppressing the faint doubts and confusion in his heart, Meng Zhao ignored Meng Qinghuai and instead focused all his attention on dealing with Meng Wen.

This second cousin indeed intended to win him over. After smoothing things over for Meng Qinghuai, he kept reminiscing with Meng Zhao about the bond they had shared in childhood.

He also spoke of how reluctant and pained he had been when Meng Zhao was sent to Imperial Capital City, and how he had worried about him all these years.

In short, he played the family card to the fullest, and his display of sincerity was genuine enough not to be off-putting.

Meng Zhao naturally went along with it, selectively recounting some of what he had seen and heard in Imperial Capital City. From time to time, he even complained about the austere life at Great Compassion Temple.

He looked as though he had truly lived through it all. His acting skills were certainly impressive.

Once the atmosphere had warmed up, Meng Wen offered another round of blunt, unabashed concern before abruptly changing the subject.

"Ah, I had long known that Fourth Brother's life at that temple could not have been easy, but I never expected it to be so bitter. You have truly suffered.

"But now, hardship has finally given way to sweetness.

"Not only are you now one of the thirty-six Heavenly Gang Guards charged with protecting the Son of Heaven, but you also hold the rank of a Subordinate Third Rank official, with status and honor beyond compare.

"Having returned to the family, you will also inherit the foundation Second Uncle left behind. In the future, perhaps even I will have to rely on your care."

Upon hearing this, Meng Zhao vaguely sensed that Meng Qinghuai, who had been watching coldly from the side for so long, was feeling increasingly conflicted. The occasional looks he cast Meng Zhao had grown even colder and more jealous.

That was probably his genuine reaction.

The Heavenly Gang Guard was an elite imperial guard camp established by decree of Emperor Beitang Sheng. It corresponded to the positions of the Heavenly Gang stars, and thus had only thirty-six individuals. It was specially established, with a rank of Subordinate Third Rank.

Though they possessed little real authority, their status was lofty and refined, and they enjoyed many privileges. It was the classic position of little work, great pay, and high standing.

All because, in his childhood, Meng Zhao had entered Great Compassion Temple in Imperial Capital City under the Son of Heaven's decree, keeping his hair and cultivating there for ten years, reciting scriptures and praying for blessings.

Whether or not it had truly dispelled the aura of calamity, the hardship he had endured could not be erased.

Naturally, after Merit Completion, he and the other thirty-five brothers in misery received rewards from the imperial household, and the Heavenly Gang Guard was among them.

Meng Zhao corresponded to the position of the Heavenly Injury Star. He had also received three treasures bestowed by the Emperor himself: a seal, a Waist Token, and the Heavenly Injury Saber.

In terms of prestige, within the present Meng Family, he was likely second only to his eldest uncle, Earl of Nan'an Meng Jizu.

Not to mention that apart from his lofty position in the Heavenly Gang Guard, Meng Zhao also had the vast estate left behind by his father waiting for him to inherit. Status, wealth, and power were all within arm's reach.

No wonder Meng Qinghuai felt so resentful.

When people were compared, one died of envy; when goods were compared, one got thrown away. Compared to the path Meng Qinghuai had struggled along himself, it was truly hard to accept.

Meng Wen's words were also quite interesting. If they were meant as a gesture of recruitment, he had lowered his stance considerably. Yet if they were meant as flattery, his tone was not especially formal, more like a joke.

Meng Zhao smiled at Meng Wen without responding.

The fact that he had come here to act out this scene of brotherly affection was already giving him face. To expect him to truly enter the fray and openly support him was pure wishful thinking.

At this moment, for some unknown reason, Meng Qinghuai took the initiative to speak. His tone was faintly sarcastic.

"Fourth Young Master has returned to the family and will soon take charge of the second branch's estate. Congratulations are in order.

"Qinghuai shall take this opportunity today to offer Fourth Young Master a gift. Come, bring up the gift."

As he spoke, a burly man in black came briskly up from outside the pavilion, carrying a bronze box. He had clearly been prepared in advance.

Meng Qinghuai rose and took the bronze box, dismissing the man in black. He gave Meng Zhao a smile that did not reach his eyes, then opened the box.

He took out a palm-sized stone carving and placed it at the corner of the table.

The carving was a tiger, quite vivid and lifelike. The craftsmanship was good, and the carving technique was excellent.

But unlike those majestic tigers that held their heads high and bore the imposing air of kings of all beasts, this stone tiger had lifeless eyes. Its forepaws stretched forward and its head hung low, posed as though lying prone. Sickly and listless, it possessed no trace of imposing presence.

Its meaning was not difficult to understand. A dragon had to coil, and a tiger had to lie down.

This was a warning to Meng Zhao: in the Meng Family from now on, he should watch how he conducted himself and not do what he ought not do.

At first, Meng Wen had thought that Meng Qinghuai had truly prepared a fine gift for Meng Zhao, and he had been full of anticipation.

He had thought that if the two could use this chance to resolve their previous discord, it would put one of his worries to rest.

But the moment he saw the stone tiger, his expression changed and his heart went cold.

This was a rhythm that would not stop until he had offended the other man beyond all repair.

Meng Wen also found it strange. Meng Qinghuai might not usually have been an especially mild or amiable person, but he should not have been so narrow-minded and petty as to offend someone to the bitter end. Why was he acting this way?

What worried Meng Wen even more was that Meng Zhao's expression was no longer as gentle and composed as before. Instead, it had turned several shades darker.

As his gaze shifted, a dense fury rose within it, as though it could erupt at any moment.

I cannot let the two of them clash directly.

Meng Wen had only that one thought. If they truly started fighting here, should he help Meng Zhao or Meng Qinghuai?

The former was his blood cousin and was about to inherit the second branch's estate. His influence would be considerable, and he would be of great help in Meng Wen's bid for the position of family head. Not only could Meng Wen not offend him, he had to win him over.

The latter was his right-hand man. They had known each other for years, shared deep feelings, and had intertwined interests. He could not chill the man's heart either.

Thus, Meng Wen made a swift decision. He deliberately put on a relaxed expression, tugged at Meng Qinghuai's sleeve, and reproached him.

"Qinghuai, this gift of yours is far too shabby. It truly cannot be presented in polite company, so do not make a fool of yourself.

"If we are talking about gifts, you must see the one I carefully prepared."

As he spoke, without even looking at Meng Qinghuai's somewhat ugly expression, he lightly clapped his hands.

After three crisp claps, dazzling petals swirled up from a flowerbed at the eastern corner of the pavilion, fluttering like butterflies.

Green as jade, white as snow, blue as the sea—petals from many different varieties of flowers drifted through the air, breathtakingly beautiful.

Beneath the glow of glass lamps, accompanied by that sea of flowers filling the sky.

A beauty in a pink water-silk dress and a white fox-fur cloak approached them with graceful steps, as though she had stepped out of a painting of a maidservant.

Her skin was fairer than snow, and her figure slim and supple. Her lustrous black hair had been arranged in a soaring cloud coiffure.

Her delicate melon seed face bore exquisite features and soft bone structure. One glance was enough to make her unforgettable.

If one had to sum her up in a single word, it would be elegance—an unadorned, refined beauty, with a lofty air untouched by the smoke and fire of the mortal world.

Even Meng Zhao, who in his previous life had been bombarded by countless images of beautiful women through the internet, was still drawn in by this woman's beauty.

Not to mention that someone had specially created such an atmosphere for her entrance. Those petals—tsk, tsk—who knew how many flowers blooming at their most splendid had been wasted.

Still, the effect was first-rate. At the very least, Meng Zhao could not help being drawn to the woman.

Then vigilance rose in his heart. He activated the White Bone Visualization Method that complemented the Arhat Young Monk Skill.

He visualized the flower-like beauty before him as a white skeleton, with horrific flesh occasionally writhing over it, covered in filth, urine, maggots, and biting mosquitoes and flies...

In an instant, all the previous tenderness and stirring of his heart vanished without a trace.

He became like an old monk in meditation, his heart unmoved by waves, free of all seductive and delusional thoughts.

When it came to calming the mind and severing desire, the Buddhist methods he had learned at Great Compassion Temple were truly peerless.