Feng Jiahe returned from the dead without announcing it far and wide. Still wearing his burial clothes, he lay stiffly on the board, while the funeral at home proceeded as usual.
What a pointless resurrection!
Xiang Yuan received the will and became the rightful heir to the family headship. Since the whole matter reeked of strangeness, he did not rush to announce it to the entire clan. For three consecutive days, he went nowhere, sitting upright in a quiet chamber to cultivate.
During that time, he used Seven Hearts Divination to divine the matter. Unable to grasp its method, he could only calculate that the outcome would be favorable.
Even so, Xiang Yuan still felt that something was off. For instance, the way Feng Jiahe looked at him was indescribably strange. To put it bluntly, it was a little lecherous.
Was that how a father looked at his son?
No way!
Something had to be wrong.
Out of caution, Xiang Yuan neither went to the mourning hall to keep vigil for his father over those three days, leaving the task to his two useless elder brothers, nor did he stir up trouble everywhere by producing the succession will.
The Feng Clan faced troubles both within and without. At first glance, it looked like a pool of muddy water; step into it, and it was surprisingly deep. It gave off the distinct impression that everyone was a master schemer.
At a time like this, whoever jumped in would be unlucky. Xiang Yuan had no desire to be the fool who stepped on a landmine. Xiang Yuan wisely kept himself safe, watched how things unfolded, and waited for some unlucky bastard to test the waters.
Several uncles from the branch families were perfectly suited for that role. They were practically competing to